Shifting Views
by MsBarrows
Summary: Thor asks the Avengers to keep an eye on Loki while Asgard goes to war against the chitauri who recently tried to remove him from prison there. Tony Stark finds himself holding the leash of a shapechanged Loki. Neither of them are happy about the situation.
1. No Real Choice

Loki does not like being here, at the place of his defeat, but he has been given no choice in the matter. He had thought he would never see this place again, these people again, this world again, yet here he is, shackled and gagged and forced to stand quietly at the side of the man who still insists that they are _brothers_. Part of him wishes to rage and protest, to fight, to flee, but the gag stops his tongue and the shackles render him biddable, so that all he can do is glare in barely-suppressed fury at these so-called Avengers as they stare back at him, clearly as unwelcoming of his presence here as he is of theirs.

"No, really, someone please explain to me just what Loki is doing in my living room? I thought he'd been banished to his room without any supper for the next few hundred years or something?" It is Tony Stark talking, the Iron Man, and Loki hears the fear that underlies his words. They are frightened of him; they are all frightened of him, except Thor who is too blindly stubborn to fear him and the tired-looking man who contains the beast, who is too busy being frightened of himself to truly fear any other being, and whose beast fears Loki not at all.

He shifts his weight just slightly, and hates himself for even that small sign of unease in the beast's indirect presence. He will not fear, and even if he does, he will not show fear. He is Loki, and he is a _god_.

A god whose cheek aches, and his ribs; he wishes the bruised skin and cracked bones to heal, but his powers are as bound as he is, his wishes ineffectual, and he knows it will be a day or two yet before he is well again, limited to his body's natural rate of healing as he currently is. He can only be thankful that he will not have the longer suffering that one of these mortals would have to enjoy from like injuries. Strange that with such significantly shorter lives their bodies waste so much of their limited time on self-repair. Still, it is better to wish on healing than to listen to his brother's words, explaining why they are here – why he has been brought here – and Thor begging, _begging_ the mortals to take in and look after Loki, as if he is some useless child, some feeble helpless being in need of protection. _He is a god_, and were his powers unbound he would kill them all and protect himself.

"And what's to keep him from attempting to take over Earth? Other than us," Steve Rogers asks.

"Or even just stop him from running away the minute he can," Tony adds. "It sounds like you mean to leave him here for a while, and I doubt we can keep him locked up in the freaky bondage gear forever."

"I have been given an artifact – a spell made manifest – that will constrain his magics, force him into a form where he can make no real use of the little magic left to him, and bind him to one of you as his handler."

"His handler?" the beast – Bruce, Loki reminded himself – spoke up.

"A person who will have authority over him and his movements; whom he must follow when told to follow, or obey when told to stay, and who will have responsibility for seeing that he is protected from harm while he is unable to protect himself. I was made his handler for his move from Asgard to Midgard, but I cannot remain here; I must return home, to lead the retaliatory force against those who sought to remove him from our custody."

"And how long will we be stuck with him for?" Clint asks, and Loki can feel the force of his hatred and fear even though his voice is unemotional.

"Until we of Asgard have finished our war. It will take some little time; individually they are but poor fighters, but their sheer numbers and the canniness of their leader makes them a worthy opponent for the might of Asgard."

Loki cannot prevent himself from snorting at his brother's words. The Chitauri are indeed numerous, and their technology far beyond what the humans themselves could muster, but they are indeed poor opponents if not for their numbers; like earth's humans, it is the sheer mass of them that makes them dangerous. That, and their leader, and about him Loki prefers not to think, nor about how close-run a thing it was when the Chitauri attempted kidnapping him from one of the most secure locations on all of Asgard, and came within a hair's breadth of succeeding. His wounds are from his few moments in their hands before Thor had come to his rescue, snatching him back before he could be removed to a place where, he knew, he would have faced unending torment.

He does not believe he will be any safer here on earth than he was there on Asgard; by all evidence, he thinks, these humans are even less able to protect him from the Chitauri and Thanos' vengeance than his brother and his brother's people were. He would have preferred to remain incarcerated on Asgard than be brought here, but Thor is convinced that this is the better option, and Thor is used to having his way.

"So who's going to be his handler?" the woman asks, Natasha, as she stares coolly at Loki. He stared back for a moment, thinking that of all those gathered here, she is the only one whose wit he respects. She is almost as sly as he himself is, and the only one of them to manage to trick him into revealing more than he intended.

"By the strictures of the spell, he must make that decision himself," Thor says, then turns to look at him. "Brother, whose protection do you wish to be under?"

He glares for a moment at Thor, wishing his tongue was free so that he might once again deny Thor's claim of brotherhood with him, then turns his attention to those gathered here. He must make a choice, and while he would prefer to make no choice at all, the magics holding him leave him with no option but to obey Thor's commands.

Not the beast, is his first thought. The beast is mighty, but if the Chitauri come here, it will take more than mindless brutality to protect him. The woman and the archer are both intelligent enough, but not strong enough; they are support, not front-line fighters. Which leaves the choice between Steve Rogers and Tony Stark, both equally unpalatable to him. In the end there is no real choice, only the recognition of necessity; as much as he dislikes the man, Tony Stark's intellect and love of technology are more likely to prove of use in combating any incursion by the technologically-adept Chitauri than Steve Roger's mere speed and strength in battle. He steps forward to stand in front of the man, glaring down at him with narrowed eyes.

"You're kidding me," Tony complains. The others each react in their own way to Loki's choice; Clint laughs. Natasha's expression doesn't change at all. Bruce looks relieved, Steve uneasy, lips pressing together for a moment.

Thor grins. "An excellent choice, brother!" he says, clapping one hand to Loki's shoulder, words and action making Loki glare at him. Thor turns to Tony. "I thank you for taking this on. My brother means much to me, and I am sure you will be an excellent handler."

Tony sighs. "Damn it... why me?" he asks, then turns away. "Let's get this over with, I guess. What do I need to do?"


	2. Leashing Loki

Tony watched uneasily as Thor removed the gag and cuffs binding his brother. He didn't like this; he didn't trust Loki at all, and he couldn't help worrying that Thor might be overly confident about the spells holding Loki contained. Once his bindings were removed, Loki shook his hands, sparks of power briefly appearing between his fingers, and opened his mouth wide as if yawning, jaw wiggling from side to side before closing again, his face settling into an annoyed expression.

"Explain to me again what's going to stop Loki from just using his powers and vanishing – or doing something much, much nastier than vanishing – the moment you're gone?" Tony asked Thor nervously.

Thor did something with the handful of metal objects that made them vanish into thin air – an impossibility that irked Tony even further – then pulled something out from under his armour; a leather throng, strung with a pair of clear crystal beads, one polished smooth, one cut into a myriad of facets. "These are limiting his powers; once fully activated, the spell they carry will enforce even stricter limits on what few powers remain to him," Thor explained, then glanced at Loki. "Prepare yourself, brother," he ordered.

Loki scowled, then stripped off his jacket, tossing it to one side, before he tugged his shirt free and began methodically unfastening it, ignoring the others gathered in the room.

"Uh... why is Loki getting naked, Thor? Is this some sort of kinky sex magic thing? Not that I have anything against kinky sex magic, just I'm really not sure I want to get that involved with your brother..."

Thor grinned, and clapped one hand to Tony's shoulder, hard enough that Tony had to take a half-step sideways before catching himself. "Fear not, my friend," Thor said, beaming. "There is no sex involved. But Loki will be changing form, and with his powers bound as they are, he cannot manipulate his clothing as he usually would, and must instead remove his garments beforehand."

"Changing his form?" Bruce asked, from where he was leaning against the wall nearby, arms crossed.

"Yes! In a similar way to how you change, though entirely unrelated. My brother is a shape-shifter. A useful talent, though when he is in other forms than human he is unable to use the full range of his powers; too many of them rely on words he cannot say and motions than he cannot make as an animal."

Loki looked at Thor and muttered something under his breath; Tony didn't catch what it was, but by the death-glare that went with it he assumed that Loki was less than happy about his skill and its accompanying weakness being explained to people that Loki considered to be enemies. Tony couldn't help but grin a little at that, even if this additional impossibility makes him feel even grouchier about the whole thing. "I think I begin to see... so in addition to limiting his powers, this spell-artifact-thingy will turn him into an animal so even less of his powers will be available to him?"

"Indeed, you understand correctly," Thor agreed, looking pleased. "He cannot remain an animal all the time – to do so is damaging – but while waking he will be an animal, and must stay either near you or within the bounds of an area where you have instructed him to remain. In addition he may not cause harm to you or to any others, by any act of physical or magical powers or by purposeful negligence."

"Purposeful negligence?" Clint asked. "What does that even mean?"

"He cannot do something that, while not directly harmful to you, may lead to harm to you."

"Like greasing a step or loosening a handrail or casually leaving an electrical appliance in the shower?" Natasha asked. "No potentially-lethal pranking, you mean?"

"My brother is well-known for his acts of mischief," Thor pointed out. "It seemed something worth guarding against."

Tony nodded, thinking of all the things in the tower that could be used to harm them otherwise. "Good idea, I like it," he agreed, then looked at Loki, who was down to just a pair of silky white briefs and an assortment of dark bruises. "Wow, is it just me or does this feel awkward as hell? Can we get this over with before I give in to the urge to run screaming in the opposite direction? What's next?"

"Next I must activate the artifact. I will need one of your hairs," Thor explained, then turned to Loki, who was already plucking a hair from his own head, his face still set, though his expression was now more of a purposefully blank one than showing any identifiable emotion.

"A hair? Okay," Tony said, and tugged one of his own loose, handing it over as Thor reached to accept it.

Thor also pulled one from his own head, then carefully knotted the three hairs together. "A hand, brother?" he said, holding them out, and Loki pinched the knot, looking briefly at Thor with a long-suffering look briefly crossing his face. Thor leaned down and began braiding the three hairs together, frowning in concentration and chewing on his lip as his blunt fingers twisted the hairs over and over again. It shouldn't have taken very long, Tony's hair being only a few inches in length, but instead it took a while, a long while, the fine braid of hair growing and growing in length, and somehow thickening in diameter as well, until there was a length of thin cord almost two feet long stretching from Loki's pinched fingertips to Thor's hands. Thor did something that seemed to tie off and finish the ends, then smiled at Loki. "Thank you, brother," he said. Loki remained silent, and simply let go of the other end, looking away as if unconcerned and unimpressed.

Thor snapped the thong holding the two beads around his neck, and then threaded them onto the cord in turn, each at a different end of it. He held the two ends pinched together in one hand, and closed his other round the two beads, frowning in concentration again as he whispered a few words, then yanked the hand with the beads down the cord. There was a flash of light, and then Thor was smiling, holding two identical long folded cords now instead of one, each with a single bead strung on them. "It is done," he said, and stepped over to Tony, holding both out. "Take one, and tie it around your person – neck or wrist or elsewhere, it matters not – and then tie the second in a like position on Loki. That will complete the binding."

Tony raised his eyebrows, even as he picked up one – the smooth-beaded one – and fastened it around his neck, tying the ends together in a simple knot at the back of his neck. "You made us friendship bracelets? Aww, you shouldn't have," he said, then picked up the second and turned to Loki.

Loki had that long-suffering look on his face again, and was stepping out of his briefs, seeming completely unphased by his own nudity in front of them. Tony blinked, then forced himself to ignore the nakedness and step forward, reaching up – annoyingly far up – to tie the thin cord around Loki's neck, entertaining a brief fantasy of simply garroting him with it instead. Though it didn't look strong enough for that, and he was pretty sure Thor wouldn't let him anyway.

As he stepped back, both beads flashed with light, and Loki changed, too fast for the transformation to truly be visible, just one moment a tall naked man and the next a wolf. A very, very _tall_ wolf, as big as a large pony or small horse, with thick black fur, and a mouth full of sharp white fangs that he got a disturbingly close view of as it snarled angrily. Tony recoiled with a startled yell, and it turned and leapt, landing half the length of the room away. Loki crouched low and looking quickly around as the Avengers all reacted to the sudden shift and movement, either loudly or with sudden moves of their own towards weapons, or both. A second leap took Loki further away from all of them, disappearing into hiding among a cluster of potted plants in back of an overstuffed leather armchair in one corner of the room, a threatening growl making it clear that he was no more happy about the situation than any of them were.

"Hold! Hold, my friends, I promise you Loki is no danger to you!" Thor called out, raising his hands and making calming motions, Steve quickly joining him in telling everyone to stand down.

"Dammit, Thor... when you said he was going to turn into an animal, I was picturing something... well, something a lot smaller and fluffier. You know, something _harmless_. What the fuck kind of wolf is that!? I never even knew they came that big," Tony exclaimed, cupping one hand uneasily over his arc reactor as he waited for the pounding of his heart to subside.

"He has taken the form of a small _varg_ – a kind of wolf not seen here in Midgard, though they are common elsewhere in the nine realms."

"If that's a small one, I don't think I ever want to see a large one," Tony said, then looked over to the far corner of the room. Loki had fallen silent again, no sign of his presence visible save a slight swaying of one of the plants. "Damn. All right, I suppose we're fine as long as he stays in his corner."

"Good! And now I must return to Asgard, to ready myself for the upcoming battle. Take good care of my brother, I beg you," Thor said, and offered his hand.

"Yeah, we'll take good care of Spot," Tony said, shaking his hand and clapping his other hand reassuringly to Thor's shoulder, and hoping he wouldn't come to regret his promises. "You go do what you have to. Try not to take too long about it."

Thor grinned and nodded. "I will return as soon as I may. My thanks, my friends," he said to all of them, then walked out to the balcony, spun his hammer, and vanished.

Tony forced a smile and looked at the other Avengers. "Well, it looks like the show's over. I'm going to go to my lab and have a small nervous breakdown. See you all later."

"Mind if I join you?" Bruce asked, straightening up from where he'd been sitting on the floor doing deep-breathing exercises to calm himself since the excitement over Loki's transformation.

"For the nervous breakdown, or the making things blow up afterwards? You know you're always welcome to join me for either," Tony said and started walking toward the elevators.

"I'll pass on the nervous breakdown. What were you thinking of blowing up?" Bruce asked interestedly as they left.

Everyone else found reasons to leave the room as well, none of them wanting to remain anywhere near the corner where Loki lurked.


	3. Feeding the Wolf

"What's our guest up to, Jarvis?" Tony asked, glancing up from adjusting the linkages inside one arm piece of the latest suit. One of the first things he'd done after reaching the lab had been to assign the AI the task of keeping an eye on Loki, and letting him know if he did anything in the least suspicious. He'd half expected Loki to make a break for freedom as soon as everyone's back was turned, but to his surprise the man – well, wolf – had remained in his hiding spot the remainder of the afternoon and now well into the evening, not moving from it even when others had passed through the room on their way to and from the kitchen, home theatre, and elevators.

"_Still nothing, sir. He has only moved once since you last asked me that question,_" Jarvis said, and without further prompting projected a hologram that showed a view of the common room, with a wireframe overlay sketching in what wasn't visible to any of the security cameras. The wolf was shown rising to its feet, stretching, pacing back and forth for a moment with head lowered to peer out around either side of the chair, then rising up to look over the back of it – Loki's head just briefly visible – before resuming his previous position, curled up in the corner.

"Huh. Well, let me know if anything changes."

"_Of course, sir._"

He lost himself in his work fore a while, muttering under his breath as he chased down the problem that was causing some annoying stiffness of movement in the latest design, finally sighing and putting aside the repaired piece. Jarvis had left the display of the common room open, he noticed as he looked around.

"Cup of coffee, Dummy," he said as he pushed his chair back from the workbench, leaning back and resting his feet on the edge of it, letting his head hang backwards over the back of the chair and closing his eyes. The room was silent for a couple of minutes, apart from the muted sounds of Dummy moving around, brewing a single serving of coffee for him. He lifted his head again at the sound of the bot approaching. "Thanks," Tony said, accepting the mug from Dummy's claw, and absently stroked a hand along the smooth metal casing of its arm, smiling a little as the bot pressed up into the touch like a cat arching its back.

He sipped the coffee, then leaned forward reached up, gently shoving with one fingertip at one corner of the hologram, setting it to a slow rotation, before settling back comfortably in his chair again. He studied the sketched-in form of the huge wolf lurking being the chair, and wondered how long they were going to be stuck with Loki, and just how much trouble he'd prove to be.

Tony was starting to drift off despite the coffee, when movement in the image caught his attention. Bruce, wandering barefoot into the room dressed in the stretched-out grey sweatsuit that Tony knew was Banner's preferred sleepwear. He paused near the middle of it, then turned and took a few steps toward the corner where Loki was. Tony could see that Loki had raised his head watchfully at the man's approach, though from where Bruce was he wouldn't be able to see anything of Loki. Tony tensed, certain that the Hulk could handle Loki – even small varg Loki – if needed, but still worried nonetheless.

"Sound, Jarvis," he whispered, eyes glued to the display.

* * *

Bruce stared at the corner of the room, guessing by the slight motion of one of the plants that Loki had moved. "Hey," he said quietly. "I'm going to assume that even in animal form you can still hear and understand me. Though I feel kind of weird, talking to a chair, so it you could move to where I can see you, I'd appreciate it." He paused, waiting, but apart from another plant swaying, there was no sign of Loki. Bruce smiled crookedly. "Well, I suppose that doesn't entirely surprise me. Our first encounter here was kind of rough on you, after all."

That brought a response, the merest suggestion of a brief growl. The sound made Bruce's smile briefly widen; proof that Loki understood his words, at least. He continued on to the kitchen to make himself a mug of chamomile tea, part of his regular nightly routine when he was having trouble sleeping, as he was tonight. As the kettle filled he frowned thoughtfully. "Jarvis... has anyone brought food or water to Loki?"

"_No, Dr Banner._"

"Ah," he said, frown deepening, and after plugging in the kettle, went searching through the cupboards, quickly finding a stack of nested stainless steel mixing bowls. He half-filled the largest one with water, then carried it back out to the common room and over toward the corner. A growl sounded as he approached, getting louder and more threatening the closer he came.

"Just bringing you something to drink," he said quietly, heart pounding just a little harder but not enough to worry him. He crouched down while still a few feet away from the nearest planter, setting the bowl on the floor, then carefully pushed it as close to the plants and chair as he could reach without getting any closer. "I'll bring you something to eat in a minute," he said as he backed off and straightened up, then returned to the kitchen.

While his tea brewed he poked around in the fridge, trying to think what a wolf would eat. Meat, obviously, but since the wolf was also technically a human – well, humanoid, Aesir not technically being human – might that not change whether or not Loki would prefer his food cooked or raw, or whether or not it should include vegetables? Easiest to assume that the change to a non-human form included changes to the digestive system that made the body suited to eating the proper diet of that animal, but he didn't _know_. He finally settled for frying up a couple of packages of hot dogs while he drank his tea, dumping them into one dish and some leftover steamed vegetables and rice into another before carrying them both out to the common room.

The water bowl was almost empty, some splashes on the floor around it showing that Loki had been an enthusiastic drinker. He growled at Bruce's approach again, though not quite as loudly this time, a sound more warning than threatening. Bruce snagged the water bowl after putting down the two dishes of food, and refilled it at the bar sink before returning it.

"Good night," he said, and headed off to bed.


	4. Foolish Creatures

Loki expects many things when he is left in the hands of his enemies, but being ignored is not one of them. Yet that is what is happening; three days have passed now, and apart from walking well-clear of the corner where he is, and the beast bringing him more food and water at intervals, no one seems to be paying any attention to him at all. It is disquieting; he does not like being discounted.

The truly infuriating thing is that there is, in fact, nothing he can do. The only things in reach of him are a large chair and several plants growing in pots, and the bowls that his food and water are brought to him in. He can't walk more than a few paces away from the corner before beginning to feel oddly discomforted, and he's only once made it more than a couple of body-lengths out of the shaded corner before a sudden spurt of terror made him leap back into cover. The spell that has been placed on him is most cursedly effective; he has not yet bothered trying again.

The second worst part of his confinement here, after being ignored, is the lack of suitable toilet facilities. Both as a man and as a wolf he dislikes soiling his own sleeping area, but he's had no choice but to drop his leavings on the floor only a few feet from where he normally lies. An automated machine quickly appeared and cleaned away all sign of it, but the shame remains, and is reinforced every time he has to void his bowels or bladder. He wonders if this is a subtle torture being inflicted on him by Stark, but in the end decides it is too subtle to be a purposeful tactic of the blunt-spoken man.

Which, like being ignored, is even more disquieting than if it had been a _purposeful_ neglect.

If only he had some sign of these mortals' intentions toward him, in his captivity among them. He is too on-edge to rest, yet knows that this animal form of his will need sleep eventually; already he has begun to push too close to the bounds of what it is physically capable of, at least with the added burden of how injured and unrested he'd been even before shifting to this form. He can only be thankful that varg are far more durable in this regard than earth's own lupine creatures. Still, he cannot stave off collapse from physical exhaustion for too much longer, and that... that, he has to admit, he fears. He will be truly helpless once that happens, submerged in spellbound sleep and trapped in his normal form. Vulnerable, unable to even physically protect himself, much less make any use of the few magics remaining to him. Dependant on the well-meaning and protection of these damned mortal friends of his bro... of Thor.

In his anger, it takes him some time to notice that the building is unusually quiet today; none of the usual traffic of people through the room, in search of sustenance, entertainment, rest, or the companionship of their fellows. It is only when the apartment grows darker with the fading of daylight, and he grows hungry, that he realizes it has been many hours since he's seen even the least sign that there are any other occupants here but himself.

The discovery makes him uneasy, and increases his anger. Tony Stark is supposed to be protecting him; how can he claim to be doing so, when he is not even here? When Loki is being left unguarded, unwatered, unfed, unwatched, forced to inhabit a space insufficient for the physical exercise this body requires? Neglected. _Ignored_.

It has been full night for some time and his initial raging anger has faded from white heat to a focused coldness deep in his belly when there is sound elsewhere in the tower, a grating vibration felt more through the floor underfoot than as any audible sound. Then just moments later, the muffled sounds of footsteps and voices, the tower re-populated at last. He quickly raises his head, looking over the back of the chair toward the glassed-in lobby area at the far end of the room, where there are elevators and several doors leading he knows not where. As he watches, a double door marked swings open and the Avengers spill through it and into the lobby, all of them looking the worse for wear; they have been in battle somewhere, judging by their exhaustion and the state of the armour and weapons they carry. The beast has clearly come out to play at some point, as Captain America is carrying a sleeping form in his arms that is wearing nothing more than a blanket and torn underclothes.

"I'll put Bruce to bed," he says over his shoulder to the others as he heads for one of the elevators. "Natasha, make sure Clint gets that arm seen to."

"It's just a scratch," the archer complains.

"Yeah, just a scratch that needs at least five stitches," Iron Man points out as he flips open his visor.

"Clint..." Natasha says warningly.

"All right, all right, you can play doctor and sew up my boo-boo," Clint says, then grins unrepentantly at her. "Or we could play doctor and nurse and I could..."

"Clint!" Natasha and Captain America both snap, while Stark grins

There is a muted chime as an elevator arrives; Captain America calls farewell to the other three as he disappears into it with Bruce. The doors slide closed and there is a different muted chime as it leaves.

"Infirmary, Clint, or I'll phone Coulson and tell him you refused treatment."

"Ouch! No fair, Tasha. Fine, I'll come along peaceably, officer," he says, holding his hands above his head. The woman puts a hand against his back and pushes him, following him across the lobby and through a door into what, judging by the way their footsteps and voices change as they disappear from Loki's view, must be a stairwell.

Stark watches them go, then makes his way to the bar, and begins mixing himself a drink without even bothering to remove his suit first. Loki watches him, narrow-eyed, then when the man walks out from behind the bar, flows in a carefully judged leap over the back of the chair to perch on its seat, taking delight in how his sudden appearance startles the man and makes him flinch away, glass dropping from his hand to shatter on the floor. The way he suddenly has both hands pointing in Loki's direction, the devices on his palms glowing with light, is rather less pleasing, and Loki freezes, ears flicking back. For a long, tense moment they both stare at each other, a stand-off only broken when the little cleaning robot comes rolling out, intent on dealing with the broken glass and spreading puddle.

"Jesus," Stark finally says softly, hands dropping back to his side. "I'd almost forgotten you were there, you know," he points out, a statement that makes Loki put his ears even further back. "Jarvis, peel the suit," he adds, not taking his eyes off of Loki.

"_Of course, sir,_" a voice speaks out of thin air, one that Loki has heard the Avengers speak to often enough by now to know that it is a part of this tower, not some separate living being; an unliving servant of some kind. The machine wrapped around Stark's body unwraps itself, cleverly unfolding and shifting position and refolding until it stands like a separate being behind Stark, before walking away and storing itself in a niche that opens in one wall to receive it. Loki watches the process with some fascination, silently acknowledging the artistry of the machine that the man has created.

When he looks back, Stark is already walking over to the bar again. "So why are you finally making your presence felt?" he asks, as he mixes himself a second drink.

Loki snorts, then jumps down to the floor beside the chair, batting at the empty bowls and sending them clattering across the polished cement flooring, before lifting his head to glare at the man.

"Ah, right... no one was here to see you were fed," Stark says. "My bad. Jarvis, take note, if no one is on hand to feed Loki, see that suitable foodstuffs and water are made available to him."

"_Sir, that may not be possible._"

"What? Why not?"

"_None of the machines I am allowed to control, and which have access to this room, are capable of delivering a bowl or tray to here, sir._"

Stark frowns. "Couldn't you just serve him in the kitchen?"

"_If he had access to the kitchen, yes. However, he seems to be confined to the corner at present, sir._"

"He is?" Stark asks, sounding startled. "Since when?"

"_If I might draw your attention to the terms of Loki's binding, sir,_" the voice says, and makes a noise as if it is clearing its throat, then the air fills with the sound of Thor's voice, repeating words he'd said a few days prior. "_He cannot remain an animal all the time – to do so is damaging – but while waking he will be an animal, and must stay either near you or within the bounds of an area where you have instructed him to remain. In addition he may not cause harm to you or to any others, by any act of physical or magical powers or by purposeful negligence._"

Stark frowns, taking a sip of his drink. "And...?"

"_And then a few minutes later, you said 'All right, I suppose we're fine as long as he stays in his corner.' Based on surveillance of his activities since, I believe that has been interpreted by the spell as being 'the bounds of an area where you have instructed him to remain', sir._"

Loki is both pleased and angered to see Stark blink, clearly taken aback. To have been so limited since his arrival here, and it not even be _intentional_...! His anger is tempered only by the pleasure of seeing the man's surprise; even the great Tony Stark forgets things sometimes. He is also a little startled to realize that he has, in fact, been under observation all this time by whatever this Jarvis being is; not quite as ignored as he'd thought. The knowledge mollifies him at least a little.

"Wow. Okay, my bad. Let's fix that. Um... okay, you can have the run of this room and the kitchen, Loki."

"_If I might suggest, sir?_"

"Go ahead."

"_I believe your guest would benefit from access to sanitary facilities._"

"Oh. Right. Okay... this room, the kitchen, the hallway bathroom, and the hallway as far as the bathroom. Knock yourself out, Loki. Not literally," he hastily clarifies, as if Loki might actually obey any such foolish order, drawing another snort from him. "I'll go get you some food and water. I guess I should have been doing that all along. Speaking of, Jarvis, remind me later to thank Bruce for taking care of our resident hellhound," he asks, setting aside his glass and bending down to pick up the empty bowls, then carrying them off in the direction of the kitchen. Loki, pleased to have more freedom of movement, only hesitates briefly before rising and following him.

"_Of course, sir._"

Loki watches thirstily as Stark fills the water bowl, and is amused at the way the man flinches back when he turns and finds Loki standing just a couple feet away from him. Stark sets down the bowl, watching him uneasily, then edges further away as Loki steps forward to lower his head and lap at the water. He dislikes the taste of the water here; it tastes of unclean things rather than of the wilds or the depths of under-earth, but it is not unclean enough to be any danger to him and so he tolerates it.

"Jarvis? What's Loki been eating?"

"_Everything served to him, which so far has been a mix of cooked or raw meats, and small amounts of cooked starches and vegetables – leftovers, mainly._"

"Leftovers? Is that what happened to my stir-fry yesterday? I was planning to eat that," Stark complains in an aggrieved voice.

"_Yes, sir. That is indeed what became of your leftovers._"

Loki drinks over half the bowl of water before sitting down to watching bemusedly as Stark prepares food, not just for Loki but for himself as well, it seems. He makes a grilled steak and steamed vegetables for himself, and more beef, an entire large roast cut into chunks and just lightly seared, for Loki. As he trims and cuts the meat he tosses the trimmings and a few random cubes of beef at Loki, seeming amused when Loki snatches them out of the air before they can hit the floor. Loki is hungry enough not to take too much offence at his amusement, and besides, this body likes the playfulness of it, almost like a game that real vargs sometimes indulge in with small prey, tossing and batting it around until one or another member of the pack finally eats it.

He knows this is another sign that he has stayed in this form for too long, that its instincts are beginning to override his own thoughts and feelings.

Loki eats all of the roast, and a generous portion of steamed vegetables as well, licking the bowl clean with repeated swipes of his tongue until there is nothing left to taste but the metal itself.

"Pretty hungry, weren't you," Stark remarks, voice surprisingly quiet, and holds out a strip of meat cut from his own steak, held carefully in the very tips of his fingers.

Loki eyes it warily, then strikes, snapping up the bit of meat in a movement fast enough that he has already settled back and swallowed it before Stark even startles back, an undignified yelp of fright passing his lips. Followed in short order by a thunderous glare. "See if I share any more of my own dinner with you ever again," he says, and turns away to hunch over his plate.

Loki doesn't even bother trying to suppress the tooth-baring grin of his amusement at the man's reaction. He turns away, and pads silently back to the common room, where he leaps up onto the seat of the oversized chair by his corner, turning in circles before settling down in a tight curl, his back to the room. He has lost most of his fear, that these mortals might attempt to harm him in his sleep; it is clear to him that they are weak, foolish beings. He sleeps, even before Stark has finished scraping the last few mouthfuls of food from his plate.


	5. Breakfast with Loki

Tony put the last dish away, having taken the time to actually wash all the dishes by hand; an activity he finds oddly soothing, since it's something he almost never does, usually preferring to make use of labour saving devices likes dishwashers or servants instead of wasting his time on cleaning pots and pans and place-settings. But tonight he had found it restful to just stand at the sink, hands and forearms plunged into water just shy of scalding and mounded with lemon-scented foam, while he carefully cleaned everything he'd dirtied in preparing food for himself and Loki. He even washed and dried the bowls that have been in use as Loki's feeding dishes,and when he was done he refilled the water dish and carried it back out to the common room.

There he was startled to see that Loki was no longer a giant black-furred wolf, but human in form again, lying curled up in a tight ball on the chair in the corner like an animal trying to hide its soft underbelly from predators; asleep, judging by the tiny snoring sounds he was making. Tony averted his eyes quickly from the other man's nudity, momentarily glad that he had glimpsed nothing worse than a pale-skinned back, flecked with a scattering of small dark moles. The jutting shoulder-blades and knobs of vertebrae and tightly-fitted muscles combined with the harsh shadows cast by a nearby light fixture to turn the long flowing curve of bone, muscle and skin into something that looked more sculptural or architectural than human.

He left the bowl out of the way on the floor by the wall, stopping at the bar to pour himself another drink, carefully keeping his eyes away from the naked demi-god. Okay, so maybe he glanced that way once or twice, but it was just to make sure that Loki was still safely asleep, and not sneaking up on him with intent to defenestrate him again or anything like that. Totally innocent. He continued on his way to his own bedroom, drink in hand, feeling himself relax as he took the stairs down to his personal floor. He was feeling more than a little exhausted himself after the lengthy battle the Avengers has been in, on top of several days spent working in his lab with little sleep; he barely got through the effort of changing out of the suit liner and into his pyjama bottoms before falling asleep sprawled face-down on top of the still-made bed, remainder of his drink sitting forgotten on the night-table nearby.

* * *

Tony woke feeling bleary-eyed and thick-headed, and groaned as he rolled over and sat up. He'd overslept; judging by the angle at which the sun was streaming in the windows, it was some time near mid-morning already. He yawned, stretched hugely, then rose to his feet. "Morning, Jarvis," he said, then padded off to the bathroom to take care of morning routine, listening as Jarvis greeted him in turn and immediately ran through the (lengthy) list of news, reminders and miscellanea that comprised Jarvis' usual morning report to him.

So he wasn't particularly disturbed to find the common room filled with the rest of the Avengers – Jarvis' morning report had included the current headcount of the Avengers portion of the tower, as well as mentioning what rooms, or in this case room, they were in – though their activity was not what he'd have expected. They were all gathered near the archway leading into the kitchen and looking apprehensively inside.

"What's up?" Tony asked as he walked toward the kitchen in search of his first cup of coffee of the day.

"Loki," Bruce said softly, catching his arm as he started to move past the group of them, stopping him before he could move any closer to the kitchen.

Tony stared. There was a varg in the kitchen, but it wasn't the black varg that had shared the kitchen with him the night before; this one was white-furred, and he thought might be even larger, though it was hard to tell as the varg was stretched out on the floor on the other side of the breakfast island, head turned away from them.

"Huh," he said, then tugged his arm loose from Bruce's grip and walked forward. "Waiting for your breakfast?" he asked.

The varg rose to its feet, and yes, it was definitely larger than before. Loki turned and looked at him, standing very still, then looked beyond him at the gathered Avengers. His mouth opened and tongue lolled out in what was very definitely a grin. Tony was moderately surprised to see that Loki's eyes, which has been a very bright green the night before, were now a piercing blue; somehow he hadn't expected to see any change in them, and the change was even more disturbing than the whole change-to-a-different-species thing.

"Tony..." Steve said worriedly as he continued forward and into the kitchen.

"Don't worry, Cap – remember what Thor said. He's not allowed to hurt us," Tony pointed out, then smiled toothily back at the varg. "You're between me and the coffee maker. You'd better move; you won't like me when I'm not caffeinated." His smile widened when he heard Bruce's huff of suppressed laughter at the paraphrase. Loki snorted softly, but then moved to the side, in a pointedly slow fashion that mostly put Tony in mind of the not-really-following-your-orders I'm-doing-this-because-I-want-to way that a cat might move aside when shooed.

Tony continued on toward the coffee maker. "Who's making breakfast today?" he asked as he started a pot brewing.

"Natasha's turn," Clint spoke up. Breakfast duty normally rotated between Steve, Bruce and Natasha, as they were the only three of the group that were good cooks; Clint's cooking skills only stretched as far as making things that could be heated in the toaster or pouring milk over cereal, Tony could cook reasonably well when he felt like it but especially in the mornings had too much of a tendency to get distracted and burn things – not to mention using three times as many pots, pans, and utensils as any other person, according to the rest of them – and Thor had confessed that his only cooking skills involved cooking over an open fire, and that he wasn't very good at it, though to pretty much everyone's surprise he'd proven to be an excellent scullion.

The other Avengers moved into the kitchen, all of them but Bruce keeping their distance from Loki, who was now stretched out along the base of one wall, head up and watching them with what Tony could only think of as amused interest. Bruce walked right over, stopping just a couple of feet away and looking interestedly down at him.

"Fascinating," he said. "I wonder why he changed colour morph. Jarvis, any idea when this occurred?"

"_Yes, Dr Banner. Loki changed to human form when he went to sleep last night, and then to varg again when he woke up two hours and twenty-three minutes ago._"

"Thor had said he'd change to human form when sleeping," Natasha pointed out as she started pulling ingredients out of the fridge and cabinets. "And that he'd be an animal when awake."

"I don't think he said anything about him necessarily being the _same_ animal every time," Steve pointed out.

"Did he change the other times he's slept, Jarvis?" Bruce asked.

"_I believe last night was the first time he's slept since arriving here, Dr Banner._"

That raised a few eyebrows around the room. Clint broke the silence with a short bark of laughter. "I can never sleep when I'm in enemy hands either, unless they drug me or I'm _really_ exhausted," he said, then grinned at Loki, more a darkly amused showing of teeth than a display of any real humour. "Don't worry, Fido, I don't think any of us has plans to turn you into a wolf-skin rug. Not even me. We like your _brother_ too much for that."

Loki managed to glare at Clint fairly credibly, which just seemed to amuse the archer even more.

"Clint, stop teasing the dog and come chop these up for me," Natasha said, gesturing at a cutting board and a selection of fresh fruit.

"Ooo... are you making blintzes? Tell me you're making blintzes," Clint exclaimed, and hurried over to take a seat and start preparing the fruit for filling.

Natasha gave him an amused smile. "Yes, I'm making blintzes," she agreed.

Tony poured himself a mug of coffee, then walked over to stand by Bruce, who was still hovering near Loki. "Let me guess... you're wishing you could study him?"

Bruce glanced at him and smiled. "Yeah. I doubt it would teach me anything useful about the other guy, but it's... well, this shape-changing thing, it's kind of cool, right?"

"Very cool," Tony agreed, then turned his own attention to Loki. "Don't think I really want to give a God of Mischief access to the labs though, so any studying you attempt would have to be up here. Assuming he's even willing to co-operate."

Loki lifted his lips to display his teeth, and growled softly.

"I'm guessing that's a no," Bruce said, sounding disappointed.

"Yeah that would be my guess too. Oh, hey, and thanks for seeing to it that Loki was fed and watered the last few days, I probably should of been making sure of that myself."

Bruce smiled and shrugged. "No problem. I like animals," he said. "They usually don't have problems with the other guy."

"Usually?" Tony asked, interested. He knew Bruce could only recall a little of what went on when he was the Hulk; little flashes, like fragments left over from a particularly vivid dream, was the way Bruce had described it.

"Well, dogs will start bark at him if he comes too close to what they think of as theirs, but mostly animals seem to treat him as just another animal, one big enough to be cautious around but... they're usually not scared of him. Kind of fascinating the way he can interact with them sometimes, really," Bruce said, then looked away. "I should make my tea," he said vaguely, and wandered away.

Tony let him go without further questioning; he'd found it was easiest to get Bruce talking about the big guy if he didn't push. Just express an interest in something about him, and then let Bruce think about it for a while and decide if he was comfortable talking about it or not. If he was, then later today or a few days from now, Bruce would just casually speak up and talk about it for a while... if not, neither of them would mention it again.

Instead he returned his attention to Loki, who was just lying there, eyes focused on him. "Right. Breakfast? I'm thinking not blintzes, since it would take more blintzes than Natasha is usually willing to make to fill you up. More meat, I suppose," he said, and went over to the fridge, opening it and looking to see what they had on hand.

Breakfast for Loki ended up being a cottage roll ham, cut into big chunks, and an entire large tray of breakfast sausages, once they'd been cooked. Tony didn't think raw pork could actually hurt the god, but figured erring on the side of caution for once was the smart thing to do. Loki also showed interest in the blintzes, but since Natasha hadn't cooked any extra for him, he had to do without.

"Please tell me he's not making puppy-dog eyes at me and my blintzes," Clint complained partway through breakfast.

"He's not, he's making baby-varg-eyes at all of us," Tony assured him.

"Oh, like that makes it so much better," Clint said, then glared at Loki and pulled his plate closer to himself. "My blintzes! You're not getting any, Rover."

"Here, you can have one of mine," Steve said, picking up one of the finger-size rolled pancakes from his plate and offering it to Loki.

"No, Steve! Don't fall for the puppy-dog eyes!" Tony gasped in mock horror, watching Loki warily. To his surprise Loki didn't snap it from Steve's hand, the way he had the bit of steak the night before; instead he sat very still, looking back at Steve, then slowly leaned forward and took the blintz carefully from his fingers, almost daintily, if a wolf the size of a small horse could ever truly be described as doing anything in a dainty manner. One chew, and then the whole blintz disappeared down his throat. After which he just sat there for a moment, still looking at Steve. And then rose to his feet, wagged his tail once, and trotted away, returning to the common room.

"I can't decide what is weirding me out more," Tony said. "Someone at this table actually being willing to give up one of their blintzes, or that Loki just wagged his tail."

Clint and Steve both laughed at that; Natasha and Bruce merely looked thoughtful.


	6. It'll Be Fun

Bruce wandered into Tony's lab and sat down on the beaten-up old couch to one side, in the loose-limbed sprawl that Tony knew meant he was currently relaxed and in a good mood. It always made him feel good to see that, to know that Bruce was comfortable here in the tower, as he'd been comfortable almost nowhere since the other guy had become part of his life.

Neither of them said anything; they were both fine with such quiet moments around the other, the little-over-a-year of their friendship since that first meeting on SHIELD's helicarrier having made them comfortable with silences.

"He likes animals," Bruce said after a while, and Tony nodded, put down his tools, and took a seat to listen, focus shifting entirely to listen to whatever Bruce was willing to share. "They're easier than people. They either don't like him and quietly go away, or they ignore his presence, and sometimes they'll even get curious and come over and make friends with him, as much as animals do make friends between different species, which is actually rather a lot. I get the memories of it sometimes... just glimpses. A squirrel sitting on his knee to eat a pine-cone, a deer and her fawn grazing nearby while he sits in the grass and wildflowers, watching. Sharing a berry patch with a black bear. Playing with a fox somewhere. Roaring back at a mountain lion; that one didn't go so well. I think it might have had a den full of kittens nearby."

He paused for a while, thinking, then shrugged and continued. "I think it might be in part because he.. because _we_ are vegetarian. They smell different; animals know he's not about to eat them, he's just something big and mostly harmless. Like a moose, or an elephant."

"Makes sense," Tony agreed, nodding.

"Yeah. And given how big he is, there's very few predators willing to see if they can bring him down, so... he doesn't have problems with them either, most of the time. Except for barky dogs, and mothers with young. He usually just runs away from either of those."

"Cool," Tony said, and smiled.

"Yeah," Bruce agreed, and smiled back.

Tony sprang back to his feet, picking up his tools again. "How would we study Loki anyway? I haven't a clue about how to detect whatever magic is. I have to believe it's some sort of detectable power or energy, because... well..."

"Because it has to make sense, yeah," Bruce agreed, straightening up a little from his sprawl, eyes brightening with interest, well-used to Tony's mercurial changes of mood and topic. "Any sufficiently advanced technology and all that."

"Yeah, that," Tony agreed, then dropped his tools again and turned to look at Bruce. "I suppose we'd need to set up a lot of sensors, covering as broad a spectrum as we can, and just hope that we'd be able to pick up something when he changes. But it might be something really hard to detect, which is why we as a race haven't tripped over it before this."

"Like neutrinos were?"

"Yeah, exactly... something that sleets through common matter so easily that it's only with sheer dumb luck in the right conditions that it can be detected at all with our current crude tools. Like a caveman trying to capture and listen to radio waves, except I really hope we're a lot closer to it than cavemen would have been. Medieval or Renaissance, maybe... still so far beyond us that we barely have the vocabulary to begin to understand and discuss that it can even exist, but we're at least on the right path to it."

Bruce nodded thoughtfully. "To build the sensors for neutrinos took at least a theoretical understanding of them though; a good guess as to their properties, of how they interact with other matter. We don't have even that much of an understanding of whatever it is that makes up magic."

"Yeah, we don't," Tony agreed, and frowned. "And even if he could talk to us, I don't think Loki's exactly going to be in a forthcoming mood. But I also doubt he'd going to be the only magic-user we ever have to deal with, so... we need to try and figure this out. How can we properly defend against it otherwise?"

"Good point," Bruce agreed. "If it even can be defended against by anyone who isn't themselves a magic-user."

"I have to believe it makes scientific sense. It's possible to defend against electricity with non-electric devices; in fact some of the best defences for it are things that use no electricity themselves."

"Lightning rods and Faraday cages."

"Exactly," Tony agreed, pointing at him with a screwdriver before going back to adjusting tiny screws. "If we can learn enough about magic to make even that crude of a defence against it, we'll at least be started on the right path to truly understanding it, maybe even some day being able to use and manipulate it." He paused, then grinned widely. "Besides, it'll be fun," he pointed out.

Bruce laughed. "Right. _Fun_. I can't really start helping you with anything about it right now though."

"Ah, right... you have that conference thing you're going to. Leaving tomorrow? Or the next day?"

"Tomorrow. If all goes well, I'll be back in three days."

Tony nodded, carefully not making a big thing out of the fact that Bruce was going out on his own, without one of the Avengers or a group of SHIELD agents to cover his back; being a normal guy for once and attending a conference, starting to carefully ease back into the academic side of being a scientist. A side Tony himself had never particularly cared for, but which he knew Bruce had come to miss in his years as a fugitive. Though it was another thing that made him happy; that Bruce had the option of doing so now, without having to worry about that idiot General Ross showing up with half the army in an attempt to capture him. That Bruce felt self-confident enough in his own self-control to attend.

And if anyone spoiled that for Bruce... well, Tony was reasonably certain he wouldn't be the only Avenger who'd come down like a ton of bricks on whomever it was.

* * *

Loki was still a white varg the next day, but by the following morning he was a smaller grey one, and Jarvis reported that he had indeed slept and been humanoid again before changing colour and size. Tony found himself wondering if the shapes Loki changed to on waking were a conscious choice, a sequence the spell was cycling through, or some sort of random selection. Short of Loki deciding to start communicating with them and being willing to attempt to answer questions – which so far he seemed entirely disinclined to do – Tony couldn't imagine any way to determine the answer.

It was still startling at times to come across the huge wolf, but gradually they were all getting used to Loki's presence in the Tower, even Clint becoming better-able to ignore him and go ahead with his usual routine. Tony continued seeing that he was fed properly, having asked Jarvis to remind him when it was time so that he wouldn't become so absorbed in work in his laboratory that he forget to do so. Loki continued showing up in the kitchen when team members were there eating, and begging for tidbits. So far Steve was the only person to have visibly given in to the puppy-eyes treatment and begun sneaking scraps to him, but Tony found himself having to be very stern with himself to not do the same; the God of Mischief was surprisingly effective at looking pitiable, for a being that had killed hundreds of people not all that long before, and was currently a very large and sharp-toothed predator.

Coming into the common room one day to find Steve seated on the floor giving Loki's ruff a thorough scratching – now in an red-tipped yellow coat that made Tony think more of foxes or coyotes than wolves – was the point at which Tony began to think they had all been insane to have agreed to Thor's request. The god had been here less than two weeks and already people were beginning to lower their guard around him. Thor might have assured them that Loki could do no harm to anyone while bound by the spell, but the Thunderer had so far proven to not exactly be as omnipotent a being as that whole 'God of Storms' title might suggest. In fact, as far as Tony could see, he'd always had a huge blind spot where Loki was, and Tony had no guarantee that his assurances were was truthful as Thor had stated.

Besides; Loki was the God of Mischief, among other titles. If he wasn't already hard at work on finding a way to subvert or break the spells binding him, Tony would eat his arc reactor.

* * *

Loki licked his shoulder thoughtfully, eyes fixed on the doorway nearby, though he pretended that all of his attention was currently focused on dealing with an itchy patch of fur. The entertainment room, he knew, where the home theatre might be found. A place the Avengers gathered regularly, as they had this evening, the sounds of conversation and laughter overlaying the sound of the cinematic entertainment, the _movie_, that they were engaged in watching this evening.

A pattern of sound he was well-familiar with from home, those sounds of merriment; friends gathered together, enjoying each other's company, the bonds of their friendships drawing tighter as they shared food and beverages and tales of adventure, even if here these tales were light projected on a wall instead of stories of their own valour spoken by a living tongue. He felt a hollowness in the pit of his stomach, remembering like gatherings of Sif, the Warriors Three and other boon companions of Thor. Remembering, too, how often the conversations changed tone or broke off entirely when he entered the room; not as a pause for cheerful acknowledgement, as Thor was usually met with, but a greeting of uneasiness, suspicion, silence; he was unwelcome there among his so-called brother's friends, even long before he had ever done anything worse than a few minor pranks.

As he was not welcome here, either, the entertainment room not included among the small area that Stark had allowed him access to.

He heard another burst of louder conversation among them, and rose to his feet, slinking closer to the door, lowering himself to lie along the wall to one side of it, his head projecting just enough past the frame of the doorway to be able to peer into the room and see what they were doing. The room they were in was far from as fine as Thor's apartments; a small and dark room filled with comfortable-looking furnishings, within which the four of them currently in residence were seated, all with food and drinks to hand, watching the movie.

"Shhh, shh, here comes the best part," Stark was exclaiming loudly, everyone pausing their conversations to watch the screen for a moment.

"We don't see anything Val – now what the hell are you talking about, over."

"Burt, they're under the ground. They're _under_ the _ground_. And they dig like a sunnovabitch. Big monsters, underground, now get out. _Hurry!_"

Loki watched in perplexed fascination for a while, ears twitching backwards in irritation at the continued loud noises from the room, both from the movie and from the commentary of the Avengers as they loudly critiqued the tactics and marksmanship of the characters on screen, bursting into loud laughter a couple of times, the closeness and ease of their friendships made clear by the way they interacted. He rose after a while, and padded off to the kitchen, ignoring the way the fur on his back was raising, the growl that wanted to form in his throat. They were but lowly mortals; what did he care about their plebian celebrations?

He sniffed at his water dish, and lapped up a few mouthfuls of water, wishing he had something better to drink. Purer water at minimum, and some finer beverage by preference. He nosed around the now-empty dish in which his dinner had been served earlier – a generous helping of the same beef stew that the Avengers themselves had been eating for their meal – then sighed and flopped down on the floor.

He knew the signs. He was growing bored of his stay here. A pity their initial fear of him had subsided so quickly; perhaps the varg had not been as suitable a choice of form as he'd thought. Despite its size, it resembled too much in form the well-tamed creatures that many of them kept as companions, their dogs. Perhaps a different choice might be worth trying. Something larger; something even more obviously deadly and far less friendly to their kind.

His eyes narrowed in amusement as he considered choices.


	7. Eye of the Tiger

Tony was almost to the door of the common room when he heard a loud startled shout; Steve, by the sound of it, followed a moment later buy a yell from Clint. He raced forward, wondering if he was going to need to suit up as well, and came to a sudden stop just inside the doorway, an undignified yelp escaping his own lips.

There was a lion in the common room.

Not a lion, he slowly began to realize as he took a second, closer look at it. It didn't have much of a mane – more of a small ruff of slightly longer, darker hairs – and the coat was subtly dappled, not an even colour. Then Loki turned his head to look at Tony – golden eyes this time, he noticed in passing – the two huge fangs projecting from its mouth making it obvious just what it actually was. That was a giant fucking _sabre-toothed tiger_ in the common room.

He glanced across the room, to where Cap and Clint were standing in the elevator lobby, both of them looking pale as they peered in at Loki. A faint chime signalled the arrival of Natasha, who too her credit only froze and gasped on sighting Loki's new form.

"Are we still sure he can't hurt us?" Clint called out uneasily.

"Um. Yeah... maybe?" Tony answered, and edged a couple feet further into the room. "You know, I'm suddenly really glad that I planned the tower to have such high weight-bearing tolerances."

"That's got to weigh a lot more than your Iron Man suits do, Tony," Steve pointed out.

"Yeah, but these floors of the tower were all retrofitted to be able to support the Hulk plus extensive company, so I think we're good. Probably," he added, feeling the rider might actually be necessary, and forced himself to take another step closer to Loki.

Loki, for his part, just lay there staring at him, eyes slitting partially closed. Claws slid out from the toes of his front paws, big sharp claws that put Tony even more on edge than the obvious fangs did.

"I have a sudden craving for breakfast out," Clint said, a little breathlessly.

"You know, so do I," Steve agreed.

"I know a good place for pancakes nearby," Natasha said calmly.

"As good as your blintzes?" Clint asked, sounding interested.

"No. But they're good pancakes."

"Sounds good to me," Tony said, and then grasped his fraying control firmly in hand and darted around the edge of the room, joining them in the lobby.

"Don't forget you need to feed him," Clint said, nodding his head in Loki's direction.

"I know," Tony said, making a face. "And I'll feel much more up to it once I've had some coffee. A lot of coffee. Also, we don't have anywhere near enough meat on hand to feed a carnivore that big." He turned back and pointed at Loki. "It's your own fault your breakfast will be late! I'm going to need to get a butcher to deliver a side of mutton or beef or something. So no complaints!"

Loki just stared at him, then licked his lips in a manner that suggested there were other things he could eat, and not at all in the fun way of being eaten. The Avengers hurriedly piled into the elevator and headed downstairs, Natasha quickly leading them out of the building and south past Grand Central Station, to a restaurant tucked in underneath the Park Avenue Viaduct.

"Oh, hey, I've eaten here before," Cap said, looking pleased. "Though for lunch, not breakfast. They do really good sandwiches."

They were soon seated in the restaurant, most of them ordering the buttermilk pancakes, though Steve opted for the New Yorker breakfast instead, with a side of corned beef hash. Tony spent the time until their food arrived on his phone, tracking down a butcher willing to deliver to the tower, and offering a sizable tip to have the meat delivered within the hour.

"Man, I wish you were paying for my food. I don't think I've ever paid that much for meat in, even over a six month period," Clint spoke up.

"I _am_ paying for your food, Clint... and your housing. And most of your toys," Tony pointed out. "Who do you think makes sure the cupboards are stocked and the living room full of good movies and games?"

"Jarvis," Clint and Natasha both said, Steve saying "Pepper" at almost the same time.

"Wait, what, Pepper? Jarvis I could maybe agree with, though it's my credit card he's using for all of that so it's still, you know, technically _me_. What about Pepper?"

Steve smiled. "Pepper brings by games and movies she thinks I'd like. And snacks. And books."

"Books. You mean actual dead trees? I thought I gave you a tablet with accounts at all the big ebook retailers?"

"You did. And I like it, a lot. But there's a lot of books I want to read that aren't available as ebooks, and I kind of like real books, especially when it comes to art books. There's a difference between a tiny little digital screen and a folio-sized coffee table book, you know."

"There is? I mean, there is. Obviously. So you like big books?"

Steve smiled again, looking amused. "Yes, I like big books."

Clint dissolved in laughter. Steve looked over at him, smile widening. "And yes, I get that reference, even misquoted." Even Natasha smiled a little at that, and Tony found a bark of laughter escaping him.

"You're getting the hang of this whole pop culture thing," he said approvingly.

"Believe it or not, we had pop culture in the 40s, we just didn't call it that. And most of my references you probably wouldn't get, since their time is so far past, Daddy Warbucks."

Tony gasped and reeled as if he'd been hit, almost falling out of his chair. "Daddy Warbucks. _Daddy Warbucks_. Okay, I actually got that reference, but only because Pepper has a low taste in musicals. Does that mean you're little orphan Annie?"

"No, I'd be Annie and Clint is obviously my loyal dog Sandy," Natasha said, smiling. "I'm thinking Steve is more of the Li'l Abner or Joe Palooka type."

Steve positively beamed at Natasha. "I think I prefer Li'l Abner, though we're not much alike; I was a scrawny little guy until the serum. And a city boy."

"Wait, wait, wait... what is Natasha doing with more knowledge of vintage Americana than I have?" Tony asked.

"I studied it, both as part of my training and later, when I was just curious; most of my work since joining SHIELD has been based out of the States, after all."

Clint grinned. "And she has a low taste in newspaper comics. You should see her collection. I don't think I've ever seen as many Giles annuals in one place before."

"Giles?" Steve said, perking up further. "I think I remember that name... British cartoonist, wasn't he?"

"Yes. He was just starting out during the war. I'll loan you some to read, if you like, though you need to handle them carefully; the oldest editions are a little fragile."

"I'd like that," Steve said, smiling fondly at her. "Thank you."

"All right, enough group bonding," Tony interrupted. "More important things to talk about than antique comics, as fascinating as the subject clearly is to some of you."

"These things being?" Steve asked.

"Loki, Thor, Asgard being at war against the chitauri, wondering why they were after Loki and what makes him any safer sitting here in Stark Tower than he was in a jail cell on Asgard... In Asgard? At Asgard? Whatever. We weren't really given any chance to ask questions or think it over before Thor dumped him on us – on me, more particularly – and the more I've thought about it since, the more unanswered questions I find myself having. Also wondering just how long we're stuck with him for, and if this artifact-spell-friendship-bracelet-from-hell-thing has anything like an expiration date," he finished, tapping one finger against where the crystal bead was hidden under his clothes.

That set the rest of them to frowning. "Thor wasn't exactly very forthcoming on details, was he," Clint said after a brief silence.

"No, he wasn't," Natasha agreed. "But I don't see how we're to find out any further details at this point; he's not on hand to be asked."

"No, but we do have another Asgardian on hand," Clint pointed out.

"Aesir," Steve and Tony said, pretty much in sync. "The correct term is Aesir," Steve explained.

"Aesir, Asgardian, whatever," Clint said, making an impatient gesture. "We do have Loki on hand, and it's clear he can understand what we say."

"The problem is persuading him to attempt to answer our questions," Steve said.

"That's just one of the problems," Tony corrected. "There's also the small issue of whether or not we can actually trust anything he says, if we can manage to get him talking. Well, not so much talking since right now he _can't_, but if we can get him playing an ongoing game of twenty questions with us."

"Judging by his little display this morning, I don't think he's particularly inclined to be friendly," Natasha said.

"Turning into a carnivore the size of a full-size sedan does seem rather a bit of a fuck off signal," Tony agreed. "Hostile. Also, scary. Just glad I had the floors reinforced for... oh shit," he said, freezing as a realization hit him, and quickly fumbling his phone out of his pocket to check the time.

"What?" Steve asked worriedly.

"Bruce. He was supposed to be arriving at the airport early this morning, I arranged a limo to pick him up..." Tony said distractedly as he quickly dialled through to his new driver, still missing Happy, who worked for Pepper now, not Tony. "Hey! It's me... did you pick up Dr Banner? Yes? Okay, keep him in the... you already dropped him off? _Shit!_" he exclaimed, and bolted from the restaurant, not even breaking stride as he dropped a handful of large bills on their waitress's tray in passing, the rest of the team following at his heels.


	8. Curiosity

"Jarvis!" Tony shouted as soon as they entered the elevator. "Warn Bruce..."

"Dr Banner has already been made aware, sir," Jarvis interupted calmly. "He is examining your guest already."

"Huh. Well, thank god for that," Tony said, slumping back against the wall of the elevator. "He's okay? Not in the least green-tinged?"

"He's just peachy, sir."

"Well, that's kind of anti-climactic," Clint said, sounding aggrieved.

"Better than the alternative," Steve pointed out.

Natasha ticked her head to the side in her usual 'he has a point' movement.

"So, anyone want off at their own floor?" Tony asked, trying to sound normal when his heart and breathing were still on the rather-too-fast side of things.

"No thanks, I'm pretty sure sure this is something that falls into the 'you have to see it to believe it' category, and I want to see it," Natasha said thoughtfully. Clint and Steve nodded agreement.

A couple of minutes later the high-speed elevator slowed and eased to a stop at their common floor, and the group of them piled out into the lobby. Loki was where they'd left him, still stretched out in the middle of the common room, though he was staring with an almost affronted look at Bruce, who had his reading glasses perched on the end of his nose and was peering closely at the big cat's dentition, his face only inches from the giant fangs.

"Um... morning, Bruce," Tony called out, taking a few steps closer and trying not to sound or look as freaked out as he was currently feeling. "Have a good time at the conference?"

Bruce glanced his way, and smiled. "Just fine, yes. This is fascinating," he said, waving at Loki and ignoring the way the cat's ears went back and mouth gaped slightly. "I'd say _smilodon populator_ except the largest known specimen of that was only about two-thirds the size that Loki currently is. I'm not sure if the change indicates a different species, like the varg as compared to our wolves, or if he's just exaggerating the size on purpose."

"Aren't those extinct? I'm pretty sure those are extinct," Tony pointed out.

"Extinct here, yes, for about ten thousand years or so. The quaternary extinction event; most remaining megafauna died out then. But that isn't to say that similar animals might not have survived elsewhere in the nine realms," Bruce explained, then turned back to look at Loki. "I wish I could take samples of you. Though that raises the question, is your shape-shifting something that affects you right down to the genetic level, or are you simply a cat-shaped clump of Aesir flesh."

Loki actually stared at the doctor for a long moment, then made an odd sneezing sound, rose to a seated position, and sat there looking back at Bruce with almost the same level of curiosity as Bruce had been focusing on him.

"I think he likes you," Clint said hesitantly.

Loki shot a narrow-eyed look his way, then returned to looking at Bruce. Bruce smiled. "I don't think that _like_ is the correct word," Bruce said thoughtfully. "More like we have a truce; he doesn't want a visit from the other guy any more than I do," Bruce explained. "So we're both being very polite with each other. May I?" he asked softly, lifting one hand a little towards Loki's head.

Loki gave him another long stare, ears going back, then made a soft huffing sound and lowered his head a little, ears straightening again. Bruce stepped closer, hands lifting to gently begin examining Loki's head, testing the texture of his fur, fingers probing through it to trace the underlying bone and muscle, even very carefully touching at the exposed fangs and teeth, at least until Loki abruptly turned his head away, having clearly had enough. Bruce smiled and stepped back, then began to circle him, no longer touching him but just studying him visually.

"Sir, there's delivery coming up in the main elevator," Jarvis spoke up.

"That should be Loki's breakfast," Tony said, sounding pleased. "Also lunch and dinner. Good thing we have more storage space than just a standard refrigerator, yes?"

* * *

Watching Loki making short work of half a sheep carcass for his breakfast was a mix of both amazing and really, really gross, Tony quickly decided. It made him thankful he'd thought to spread a drop cloth first, especially once Loki reached the point where he was cracking the bigger bones to get at the marrow inside. Bruce watched with obvious interest, not in the least put off by it despite his own vegetarian diet, while Clint, Natasha and Steve opted for a strategic retreat to the gym downstairs, decided they'd rather go spar than stick around watching Loki eating.

"You really want to study him?" Tony asked, glancing questioningly at Bruce.

"Yeah, I really want to study him. The magic, the different forms, everything. And don't try telling me you don't. At least the magic, anyway. Have you had any further thoughts on that?"

"Just worrisome ones, really," Tony said, and glanced over at Loki, then frowned and pulled Bruce by the arm, leading him well beyond what he hoped was earshot distance of the cat. Only then did he explain what he'd been talking to the rest of the team about right before they'd remembered that Bruce was due home.

Bruce nodded thoughtfully when Tony explained his worries about just how safe it really was to have someone apparently wanted by hordes of chitauri here, as well as his concern over how they didn't have any idea how long they'd be minding the God of Lies for Thor, or whether the spell binding him might eventually wear off.

"All the more reason to study him," Bruce said.

"I suppose so," Tony agreed. "All right, why don't we start by going to the lab and making a list of all the different sorts of detectors we can point at him to try and sense whatever happens when his magic kicks in? Who knows, maybe we'll luck out and find out that it can be detected by current technology, though I'm not holding my breath on it."

"Sounds like a plan," Bruce agreed, and the two headed downstairs to Tony's lab.

* * *

Loki is entertained by the initial reaction of the Avengers to his change in form. Their initial surprise amuses him; their fear afterwards delights him, at least until after they have left. It is only then that he begins to consider how most beings have only three common reactions to fear; to avoid the source of it – which the Avengers have done by retreating from their home – to attempt to placate it, or to destroy it. Avoidance, while amusing at first, would quickly become boring. He doubts the Avengers would ever try to please him. That leaves destruction, and while he does not believe they can kill him, he knows that they can harm him. Pain has never been something that he has liked.

He is lying there considering the possibility of harm to him when the elevator chimes, and Bruce Banner walks out into the lobby. Now it is he that feels fear, or at least a level of uneasiness that few other beings can raise in him. He lies very still, watching as Bruce stands there looking at him, then slowly walks towards him. Loki is startled to realize that the man is neither shocked nor fearful, merely curious, and finds his own interest piqued by that. As a result he remains quiet while Banner slowly approaches, pausing briefly to slip a pair of glasses out of his shirt pocket and hooking them carefully over his ears before moving even closer and beginning to examine Loki.

Loki cannot decide whether the interest being shown in his current form is more amusing or offending, but he is hesitant to do anything that might bring out the beast when Banner is already in such close proximity to him. He watches Banner with almost as much curiosity as the man is showing toward himself. When not the beast, Banner is a man of science, he knows, and one of the few who matches Stark in intellect; were it not for his lack of control over his transformation from man to beast, he might have been a good choice as Loki's handler.

When the others return, he is amused anew to realize they had feared Banner's reaction to him, or perhaps his to Banner, or both. When Bruce speaks of a truce between the two of them, he decides the man is correct, and finally decides that the man's interest in Loki's current form is more amusing than offensive. Loki even permits him to take the liberty of briefly handling him, and is pleased by the obvious care that the man takes with it; Banner fears him, yes, but his intellect overcomes his fear.

It puts him in a better mood, as does the arrival of his breakfast. The rapid retreat of several of the Avengers, clearly off-put by the dining habits of large felines, amuses him further. Though once Stark and Banner depart as well he all too quickly finds himself beginning to feel bored again, and then angry at both himself and the world around him that there is currently nothing he can do to amuse himself beyond trying to upset the Avengers.

By early afternoon his anger is passed, and it is once again boredom that he is experiencing most of all. To his annoyance, the Avengers have already adjusted to his latest form and seem to have lost their initial fear of it; Steve Rogers even comes in and sits down on one of the couches, with a pad of paper and squared-off sticks of some black substance that stain his fingers as he sketches with them. It is only when he leaves briefly to get himself some juice from the kitchen, and leaves the pad laying face-up on the couch, that Loki realizes the man is sketching _him_. Or at least his current form.

He isn't sure just what he feels about that, but it is not anger, so he does nothing, allowing the man to continue until Steve is called away to join the rest of the team for supper in the kitchen.

Loki is feeling annoyed with his form by now; it is inconveniently large. He has only limited space to move around within the room, and the kitchen is too full of things – and people – for him to fit into there easily. Nor, he realizes, will he be able to make use of the bathroom, which while inconvenient as a warg was at least possible.

With some degree of irritation, wishing the Avengers were being quieter as they ate and talked, he wedges himself in a corner of the room as best he might, and strives for sleep, aiming for some smaller form.

* * *

Steve gave a startled yelp and flinched back into the kitchen, almost knocking Tony off his feet as the larger man back-pedalled into him.

"Jesus, Cap, what's the problem?" Tony asked, frowning as he steadied Steve.

"Um, Loki... he, um..." Steve stuttered, blushing furiously.

"Oh... is he sleeping already?" Tony asked, interested, and edged part Steve, walking out into the common room, unsurprised to spot Loki lying sprawled out on the floor, lying on his side, head cushioned on one folded arm and only barely fig-leafed by the twisted position in which he lay. "Yup, that's our Sleeping Beauty."

"He... he sleeps _naked!?_" Steve exclaimed, horrified.

"Relax, Cap, just avert your eyes if it bothers you. It's not like he has any choice."

"That doesn't look very comfortable," Clint pointed out, peering around Tony's shoulder.

"Yeah, well, normally he sleeps on the chair, but I guess that latest form was too big for anywhere but the floor."

"On the chair? In the nude? Doesn't he get cold?" Natasha asked, pushing by the group of them to get a look too.

"Remind me not to ever sit on that chair again. _Ever,_" Clint said.

"Why would he get cold? Stark Tower has magnificent climate control," Tony pointed out. "Only reason we need bedding in our bedrooms is because those are purposefully set up to be a touch on the cooler side for comfort. And the chair isn't going to give you naked Aesir cooties, Clint. But I'll have it cleaned anyway, once Loki sleeping on it ceases to be a thing."

"I think he should have a blanket anyway," Steve said firmly, keeping his eyes turned away.

"I second that," Bruce agreed, and ducked into their entertainment room, coming back out with one of the blankets kept there and spreading it over the sleeping man, much to Steve's relief, and Tony and Natasha's disappointment.

"There, see Steve? All better now, no more naked Loki butt to scar your sensibilities," Tony said, then yelped as Natasha punched his arm. "Ow! Steve, Natasha hit me! Make her stop hitting me!"

"Why should I make her stop hitting you? Why is it my job?" Steve asked, lips twitching slightly as he tried to hide his amusement.

"Aren't you team leader? Doesn't that make you, like, our honorary Dad or something?" Tony asked.

"I don't think I want to be anyone's Dad. And particularly not yours, since you'd obviously be the delinquent son."

"Ooo, ouch! And here I always had Clint pegged for that title," Tony said, and grinned at Clint.

Clint merely gave him a dirty look in return.

"Tony, why don't we get back to the lab and finish what we were working on?" Bruce suggested.

"Okay, but only because you asked so nicely, and I like you," Tony said, and allowed himself to be led away for further discussion on magic and its possible detection.


	9. Enrichment Activities

When Steve wandered into the common room the next morning, he got just a glimpse of a large cat-like animal stretched out on the couch before it leapt to its feet and dashed off into hiding. Loki was apparently in an anti-social mood, though he did appear again mid-way through breakfast, sidling into the kitchen the moment Tony started cutting up some of the meat leftover from yesterday's bulk purchase. Loki was definitely some sort of cat, a couple of feet tall at the shoulders, with thick fuzzy fur in a dappled greish-beige colour, a white ruff around his face and long black hairs at the tips of his ears. He watched from the floor at first, then jumped up onto the counter, hooking a lump of beef right off of the cutting board with one sharp-clawed paw, displaying an impressive mouthful of sharp teeth as he hunkered down and started tearing at the meat.

Tony yelped, flinching away from the sudden movement, then scowled at Loki. "Are we going to need a rule about you not being allowed on counters?" he asked. Loki growled at him, and continued gnawing apart the meat he was holding down with one forepaw.

"I don't think that would be entirely fair, considering we let Clint up on them," Steve pointed out.

"We don't _let_ him, we just can't stop him," Tony said. "There's a difference. Down, Loki – no cats on the counters."

Loki made a spitting sound, but picked up what remained of his meat in his mouth and dropped back to the floor, crouching down and resuming eating it right beside Tony's feet, then when that was all eaten sat and stared fixedly at the bowl as Tony finished filling it with enough meat for Loki's breakfast. Steve had to hold back a laugh at the way Loki ahead-behinded around Tony's feet as he walked over to set the bowl down to one side of the room, out of the way of foot traffic; it was so very much like the way a house cat would have done the same. Nor was he the only one amused by the resemblance, judging by the way Bruce was smiling down at his bowl of granola and Natasha's carefully blank expression.

Clint walked into the room, late for breakfast, and stopped to stare for a moment at Loki. "So do we know what this one is?" he asked after a moment, continuing on to grab his share of the stuffed omelets that Steve had cooked for breakfast.

"_Lynx canadensis_, at a guess," Bruce said. "Also known as the Canadian lynx. Note the large paws and powerful back legs."

"He looks like a jackrabbit crossed with a Maine coon," Clint observed, which earned him a flat-eared glare from Loki. Clint just grinned right back at him; aggressively, not humorously. Loki made a grumbling sound, then turned his back on Clint and continued eating his breakfast, back hunched with annoyance.

Clint laughed, and crammed another forkful of omelet into his mouth. Natasha shook her head slightly, then frowned as her phone beeped. She pulled it out and checked the screen, then sighed and pushed aside her already-empty plate. "Clint, Coulson wants us," she said as she slid off the stool and rose to her feet.

Clint looked up, eyes widening in surprise, fork full of food paused halfway to his mouth. "Now?"

"Yes."

"But I'm not finished breakfast!"

"You are now," Natasha said remorselessly, and tugged on his arm. Clint dropped his fork to his plate, and grabbed his remaining piece of toast before following her out, muttering unhappily over having to abandon the rest of his half-eaten breakfast.

Steve sighed and leaned over to snag Clint's plate, transferring the leftovers onto his own, ignoring the look Tony gave him when he did. Old habits die hard, and he really hated seeing good food go to waste, especially when it was something he himself had cooked. Anyway, with his metabolism the concept of 'extra calories' was pretty much a non-issue.

"Good breakfast, Cap," Tony said.

"Thanks. Listen, I've been thinking..."

"About?"

"Loki," Steve said, nodding to where the lynx was busy licking his bowl clean. Loki looked up at them for a moment, end of his tongue still sticking out, then snorted and turned away to lap thirstily at his water. "He should have a proper place to sleep, instead of having to sleep on the floor or the couch."

"What, you want me to give him his own bedroom? I don't know how well that's going to work out, if he's going to make a habit of changing into... what did you call them, Bruce... megafauna? Great big heavy animals, anyway."

"Well, maybe not an actual bed, but at least a room of his own, and some sort of pad or mattress on the floor for him to sleep on," Steve suggested. "You promised Thor you'd look after him."

"I did," Tony agreed. "All right, I suppose a room of his own is reasonable. I suppose I can clear out my office and let him use that one."

"You have an office here?" Bruce asked, surprised.

"Yeah, which I never use, which is why it's no loss to let Loki have the space instead. I'll call Pepper and have her send some people up to sort and haul everything away," Tony said as he poured himself a final mug of coffee, then wandered off, pulling his phone out of his pocket as he left, already scrolling to Pepper's number.

Bruce looked amused, which he often seemed to be, and after finishing his granola and tea wandered off as well, leaving Steve and Loki in possession of the kitchen. Loki leaped up up on one of the stools at the breakfast counter, sniffing interestedly at the plates. Steve smiled. "Want some?" he asked.

Loki stared at him for a long moment, then looked at the omelet still left on Steve's plate, and licked his lips hungrily. Steve slid the plate over in front of him, then rose to his feet and began gathering up dishes and cutlery, putting everything in the dishwasher. When he was done, he rinsed and refilled the water bowl. Loki had disappeared by then, gone into hiding somewhere in the common room. With nothing better to do, Steve headed down to his own floor for a while.

* * *

"What do you think? This do?" Tony asked Steve.

Steve looked around the room. No sign remained that it had been an office until just a couple of hours before. Now it was pretty much an empty room, the floor bare hardwood, filled with light from the floor-to-ceiling windows at one side, a small private balcony the only thing blocking what was otherwise a spectacular view of Manhattan. A bare king-sized futon mattress lay along one wall, and apart from that there wasn't anything in the place.

"I dunno," Steve said. "It seems a little... spartan."

"Spartan?" Tony asked, surprised.

"Yeah. Bare. Empty. I mean, apart from the mattress it _is_ empty. Shouldn't it have more stuff in it?"

"He's got a point," Bruce agreed, looking around. "Even most zoo animals get enrichment objects in their pens these days."

"Enrichment objects?" Tony asked, puzzled.

"Yeah... toys," Bruce clarified. "Sometimes special foods. Things to keep them entertained and occupied, basically. And those are just actual animals; as far as I can tell, Loki still has a human intellect inside whatever animal head he's currently wearing. A room like this has nothing in it to interest him."

"Ah, right," Tony said, and thought for a moment. "I suppose having a bored God of Mischief on hand isn't a great idea. Okay, so what kind of toys are we talking here?"

Bruce shrugged. "I can't really say. I think maybe a mix of things that would interest whatever animal forms he happens to take, and things to occupy his human mind."

"The physical side shouldn't be too hard, though we might need to mix it up as he changes forms," Steve pointed out. "Things like scratching posts, assorted sizes of balls, a cardboard box or two..."

Tony laughed. "A lynx-sized cat dangler and some assorted perches, maybe? All right. Why don't you two see what you can do about animal toys, I think Jarvis and I can set up something to entertain his people-brain. You two have the credit cards Pepper arranged for everyone? Great, put any purchases on those," he said, and headed off down to his lab to do some quick programming work and gather up a few things he'd need.

On his way back up, he paused in the common room long enough to call out for Loki to follow him, then headed back to the room. Loki looked around it with some disdain, then went and flopped on his side on the mattress, lifting his head and watching through narrowed eyes as Tony set to work.

The first step was to install additional sensors around the room, so Jarvis could see Loki more clearly, and the second was to install several sets of the projectors that would allow the AI to display the same sort of hologram-based interfaces here as Tony liked to use in his lab. By the time he had those set up, there was already a delivery of some extra components he'd rush-ordered while down in his lab earlier, including a state of the art sound system and a large flat-screen TV.

Steve showed up with a bunch of items he'd bought for Loki just in time to help Tony install the electronics, or at least to supply the muscle to hold them in place while Tony did all the attaching to supports and wiring. Loki wandered around for a little, thankfully staying out from underfoot as he investigated the selection of balls and toys and rawhide chews and so forth that Steve had picked up, eventually returning to his mattress dragging a rawhide bone clearly sized for something like a great dane, and settling down to gnaw on it while watching them attentively.

"Fire it up, Jarvis," Tony eventually said, and watched as a hologram panel opened up in the middle of the room, blank except for the outline marking its limits and a few large buttons inside the frame. "Adjust to a size and height appropriate for Loki to use," he added, and the panel's image dropped down to just above floor level, and drifted closer to one of the walls. Loki stared, then dropped his chew and stalked closer, staring at the hologram. Steve watched Loki almost as intently as the lynx was looking at the panel.

"Okay, since you're currently unable to use a voice interface with Jarvis, I've set this up; it functions sort of like a touch panel, even though there's nothing there to actually touch. Jarvis has a bunch of extra sensors in the room so he can track your position relative to the panel, and determine if you've touched a button. He should be able to adjust the size, position and orientation of the panel so that almost any form you take can work with it. All you have to do is..."

Loki leapt forward, batting with one paw at the floating display, hitting one of the buttons, then when that opened an additional menu of buttons, began rapidly batting at those too. Music started playing, loud rock that Tony only had time to recognize as something from one of his own playlists before it changed in rapid succession to a pop song, some big band jazz, a techno piece, and then settled on something being sung in something that definitely wasn't English. Loki settled back down, sitting there with a smug look on his furry face.

"Wow. Okay, adapts quickly to new technology," Tony said, eyeing him. "And I suppose that answers the question of whether or not you can read the menus for yourself. There's also movies and some games you can play. Jarvis, what the hell are we listening to?"

"_Bj__ö__rk, sir._"

"Right. Anyway, I'll see about giving you internet access in a day or two, for now this should be enough to start you off with. Your room access is now the common room, kitchen, hallways, hall bathroom, and this room. Understand?"

Loki made a sneezing noise, then rose to his feet and walked back over to the futon mattress, settling back down with the chew toy.


	10. A Room of His Own

Loki dislikes the room at first; it feels like a prison. Like the room he was kept in on Asgard, the cell buried deep beneath the city, far away from sunlight and filled instead at all hours with a sourceless clear white light that never varies, never gives any sign of what time of day nor season of year it might be above ground. Floor, walls, ceiling, all a smooth unvarying white, save the rare times when one wall turns clear, someone looking in on him; Frigga, most often. Guards. Thor, a handful of times. Odin, once, though the All-Father had left quickly enough after Loki went into a rage over his visit. There was a wide, long block in one corner of the room, serving as bed and chair and table, and a single very small side room, as unvarying white and light-filled as the main room, where lukewarm water flows out of the ceiling for a measured amount of time after pressure against a small panel on the wall, where both water and bodily wastes vanish without sign when they touch the floor.

This room at first seems like an attempt to mimic that cell, but the walls are cream, not white, with texture to them, and sunlight streams in the tall windows that make up one end of the room, sky and clouds and tall buildings visible outside. The floor is golden wood, polished with some wax or oil, the smell of it clear to his feline nose, the texture of it almost silky against the pads of his paws. There is some sort of thick, wadded mattress pushed into a corner by the windows, large enough to accommodate even the form he'd taken the day before.

He is left alone in the room for a time, already missing the greater complexity of the common room and kitchen, until Stark returns, bringing with him noise and mess and things to watch, as the man works and swears and talks to himself and the voice in the walls. Rogers returns eventually as well, and to Loki's startled surprise has brought things for him, or at least for this form he currently occupies; things to amuse an animal, he thinks with some disdain, but finds something to do that this body enjoys, since it is easier to ignore the wants of an animal form when they are being met.

The appearance of the hologram surprises him, both because it is a technology he is unfamiliar with and because, as he moves closer to it and is able to read the labels on the buttons, he realizes that it is an interface into Stark's computers. He cannot contain his delight as he rapidly tests it out, finding some music to play that is reasonably enjoyable, but forces himself to retreat again before investigating it further. He remembers from his previous trips to Midgard that computers are usually attached – _networked_ – to other computers, and the smaller networks joined together into larger and larger ones in a way that wraps like an invisible web around their entire pitiful world, that with the right accesses it is possible to connect to what is close to the sum total of human knowledge via this web. This internet. Barely has the thought formed in his mind when Stark is talking about how he will be given access to it within a few days time.

He is glad he does not have a lengthy tail; it would be lashing right now, and giving away far too much of his mental state. He forces himself to remain where he is, chewing on the bone-like thing shaped of dried hide, until they leave, and waits some time beyond their exit before finally rising and going to investigate the interface further. It is at the moment very limited, he finds – access to music, to movies, to a few simple games that the computer projects within the space of the room. He finds one this body likes, stalking false prey through equally false environments, and retreats enough inside his head to leave the body's instincts to deal with the game while his own higher mind considers what to do with access to the internet once he is given it.

* * *

"No, see, this is brilliant," Tony explained to Bruce as they worked together in the lab. "Jarvis can monitor his internet usage, and limit it to incoming only, so he can't use it to contact anyone – assuming there even _is_ anyone he'd want to contact – and from that we can see what interests him, maybe get a better idea about just what is going on inside his head. And if he does decide that he's willing to try communicating with us, we've already got an interface set up that he can work with."

"Interesting idea," Bruce agreed. "Though I have to admit the idea of giving Loki access to the internet is something I feel at least a few qualms about."

"Yeah, me too, but I trust Jarvis to watch over him," Tony admitted.

"_Your trust overwhelms me, sir,_" Jarvis said dryly.

"What's our Loki-kitty up to right now, Jarvis?" Tony asked, not looking up from where his hands were busily involved in arranging elements of another interface hologram to add on to Loki's current program.

"_Resting, si_r," Jarvis said, and called up a hologram showing Loki stretched out on a tree branch jutting from one wall of his room, one of a number of things that Bruce had obtained via a landscaping supply company to provide natural perches and scratching posts of various size in the room. Steve is visible at one side of the picture, sitting with his back against the wall, a sketchpad braced against raised knees, as he makes drawings of Loki's latest form.

"Man, how do cats do that? For a human, lying all draped over a branch like that would be hella uncomfortable, and yet he looks as comfortable there as he did on the mattress," Tony complained.

Bruce grinned. "Cats are like that," he said, then looked questioningly at Tony. "Did you ever have one as a pet?"

"No, no pets for me," Tony answered, sounding distracted by what he was working on, then looked at Bruce and smiled crookedly, hands stilling for a moment. "Howard didn't like them, and mother always claimed to be allergic to fur and feathers, unless of course it was part of something she could _wear_, which she never had problems with. So no pets growing up, and once I was out on my own... well, I'm not good with pets."

Bruce's eyebrows rose slightly. "Not even something like a goldfish?"

"Nope, no pets at all. Lokitty over there is the closest I've ever had to an actual pet, and I don't think he counts," Tony said, gesturing vaguely at the hologram. "Unless I can count Dummy, You, and Butterfingers as pets."

Bruce grinned. "Yeah, no, I don't think Loki counts either," he agreed. "The robots... maybe."

"What about you? Pets?" Tony asked curiously.

"Yeah, a lot of them. I had a puppy for a month or two when I was a kid, before my dad changed his mind and got rid of it. Mice, snakes, goldfish, betta fish, a hamster. A couple lab mice I kind of adopted for a while, at least until the other guy showed up and I had to leave them behind. After that... a few stray dogs and cats. A fox."

"A fox? Seriously?"

Bruce smiled. "It used to come by my cabin in BC every evening in search of scraps. An outdoor pet, not a house pet, though I know some people keep them as house pets."

"Really? Foxes as pets?"

"Yeah. They're nice, if you don't mind hyper."

Tony laughed. "I think I supply more than enough hyper all by myself, thanks."

Bruce smiled, then turned his attention back to the hologram, where Loki was rubbing his head against the branch, eyes slitted in pleasure. "I wonder if what forms he takes has any relation to his mental state."

"Might be. Though so far I think most of them have been chosen with the intent of freaking us out, assuming he does have some control over them. That sabre-toothed cat yesterday... that was something."

"It was," Bruce agreed. "We'll have to see, I suppose."

* * *

He likes having a room of his own; he likes having the freedom of more than just the one room, which makes his incarceration here feel less prison-like. Still, he spends the first day in his own space, leaving it only to eat and drink and use the washroom, glad he is spared the indignity of a litter box, even if perching on the seat leaves something to be desired in terms of arrangements. He stays up all night and most of the next day, exploring the interface he has been given, trying out some of the toys that have been provided, allowing his body the exercise it has been largely denied for so many days. It is late the second day before he decides he had best rest, that the animal form's instincts are becoming too strong, and drags his blanket onto the mattress, curling up and watching the night sky over the city until he finally falls asleep.

He is a very large snake the next day, which Banner is tense around and the woman, Natasha, avoids, but the rest take in their stride, Rogers again coming in to sketch him, even smoothing a hand wonderingly along his scaled skin when he draws close to the man. He hastily retreats after that, choosing to drape himself over one of the larger tree branches available to him, and spends most of the day just lying still. Clearly his ability to take potentially frightening forms has already lost its impact.

This puts him in a sour mood, so he drops to the floor and sleeps again, waking as an unwieldy form; a river animal, a pygmy hippopotamus. To his annoyance they take that in stride too, having obtained water plants for his breakfast within the hour, and a wading pool for him to splash around in. He does not like the water; it is not natural water, tasting of mud and water plants and fish, but the same tainted water they drink out of taps. It stings his eyes; unable to get in and out of the pool on his own, he must endure it until Rogers finally returns to lift him back out. He realizes that while this shape may be inconvenient to them, it is even worse for him, clumsy and thick-limbed and bad-tempered, and unable to easily use the interface. He decides to avoid such forms in future, knowing that this water would be lethal to many amphibian, reptilian, or piscine forms he might otherwise consider taking, and that some of them would die all too easily from water's lack if there is not an Avenger on hand to care for him when the change occurs.

He takes a simpler form the next day, a small black bear, and for most of the day stays on the mattress in his corner, moving only to eat and excrete. Stark comes in to make changes to the interface, telling him that he has limited internet access now. The bear's paws are reasonably agile, but its eyes are poorly suited to working with the interface, and he finds trying to use it for long gives him a headache. He quickly finds himself in a sour mood again, despite having looked forward to having this access for days. He wanders out to the common room, finds talk and laughter and the sounds of a movie playing coming from the entertainment room again. He sulks near the doorway, snuffling at the smells of food wafting from the room, wishing his eyes could see better, to make out what they are watching. He is in an even worse mood when he retires again to his room, and spends some time shredding apart his blanket before curling up among its remnants to sleep.

Despite his desire to use the interface, he finds himself again thinking only of what shape might be the most inconvenient for his captors, without endangering himself or them. Something large, he thinks. Large but essentially harmless; something they can't easily ignore.


	11. Pleasant Attention

Tony had thought he was getting used to Loki's shape changes, but hearing Clint cackling his head off and then entering the kitchen to find the archer perched on the breakfast bar, feeding apples to a Clydesdale horse that was taking up most of the floor space, taught him that maybe he wasn't as used to it as he'd thought.

"Holy shit," is all he could say at first, the huge draft horse somehow more intimidating than even the sabre-tooth had been, because horses are at least something familiar; he even owns a few, the same way he owns race cars and racing yachts and a few other sporty investments, few of which he's ever even been anywhere near except for a time or two when he's wanted to impress some member of the sporty set. The sabre-toothed kitty hadn't seemed any more real to him than the CGI monsters in movies usually did, but this horse is unmistakeably real, right down to the smell of it, and he has never in his life been this close to an animal this big, its shoulder well above his head height, likely even taller than Steve's head would be. "That's a lot of horse," he finally managed to say.

"Yeah," Clint agreed, and to Tony's surprise reached out to run a hand affectionately down the white streak on Loki's face. "We're going to need some hay for feed and bedding, though we have enough things like apples, carrots, and oatmeal on hand to get by for now for food," Clint said. "Curry combs and stuff too... there's a saddlery shop down on East 24th where I can get most what we need to care for her properly."

"Don't you mean him?"

Clint laughed again, almost falling over. "Look again... he's a mare. That makes him a her."

Tony stared briefly at the appropriate area, and had to agree, there were no dangly bits in evidence. A mare. Why on earth was Loki a she instead of a he, and how was that even possible... God, he needed a coffee, but the way Loki was wedged into the kitchen, there was no way to even get close to the coffee maker. "So you know how to care for horses?" he finally asked, feeling like his brain was only working at about half speed.

"Yeah... we had some at the circus, for pulling around animal cages inside the big top as part of the act. I even used to sometimes do a sharpshooter act where I shot targets while standing on horseback. Moving horseback, that is. Anyway, I'll go pick up what we need; you finish feeding her."

Steve came into the kitchen just then; his reaction was to stop and stare, after which he grinned almost as widely as Clint. Apparently he liked horses too. The two men soon left, Clint to go to the saddlery store, and Steve to hunt down some hay. Tony found himself relegated to sitting there feeding carrots to the horse, unable to get at the coffee maker, and grouchy as a result.

Bruce came in after a while, and also did the stop and stare thing, then started laughing, and pulled out his cell phone to take a picture. Tony glared at him, aware of how ridiculous this looked, him sitting at the breakfast bar in sweat pants and an undershirt, still unshaven, and feeding carrots to a behemoth of a horse.

"I think I'll go use the kettle in the lab," Bruce said, and smiled at Tony. "Want me to bring you back some coffee?"

Tony instantly forgave him for laughing, and provisionally for the photo-taking. "Bless you, my child," he said. "Coffee would be greatly appreciated. Let me know what new toy you want for your lab."

"Tony, you don't have to buy me something just because I'm getting you coffee."

"I know, but I want to anyway. Please? Let me buy you stuff, you know I like buying you stuff."

Bruce laughed and shook his head. "All right, I'm sure there's something I could use. I'll get back to you on that, okay?"

"Okay," Tony agreed, and separated another carrot out of the bundle to offer to Loki, watching warily as the horse crunched his-her-whatever way down the length of it, munching up the entire thing including the greens.

Bruce returned around the time that Tony was running out of carrots, a tea pot in one hand and a carafe of coffee in the other, and joined Tony at the breakfast bar after fetching milk and a couple of mugs for them, access to the fridge thankfully not being blocked by Loki.

"What else can we feed Loki?" Tony asked. "Is celery okay for horses?"

"As far as I know, yes, celery is okay for horses. And lettuce. Some grain would also be acceptable."

"Oh, right, Clint said something about oatmeal... any idea where the hell we keep the oatmeal, Bruce?"

"Bottom left cabinet," Natasha said as she walked into the room, a folded newspaper in hand. She looked up, eyebrows raising slightly at the sight of the Clydesdale, then looked around. "No breakfast? Isn't it Steve's turn to cook?"

"Yeah, he went out in search of hay for our newly equine house guest," Tony told her, as he went poking around in the cabinet in search of the oatmeal. "Do horses eat this raw or cooked?" he asked, perplexed, once he hauled out the big cardboard canister of it.

"Either, though if you cook it you have to let it cool down," Natasha said, finding a mug for herself and then taking a seat at the breakfast bar and pouring herself a cup of coffee. "Easiest to just mix it with some cold water. And maybe a dollop of molasses. Add in some bran too if we have any."

"A dollop? How big is a dollop?" Tony asked as he dumped a bunch of the oats into one of the stainless steel mixing bowls that had become their go-to dishes for feeding Loki.

"Just... a dollop. Like adding cream to your coffee, just a splash of it."

"Right," Tony said dubiously. "And where is the molasses?"

"Top left cabinet by the stove," Natasha said, already spreading out her newspaper. "Honestly Tony, how do you not know where anything at all is kept in your own kitchen?"

"Because you guys do not appreciate my cooking. Except for making the odd snack when I'm up late or have slept in, I never get to cook any more."

"Poor baby," Natasha said with false sympathy, then glanced up from her paper, frowning at Loki. "Get the horse out of the way and I might be willing to make breakfast, since Steve has ducked out on it."

Tony grinned. "On it!" he said happily. He quickly mixed up the oats, water, and molasses, scrunching his nose at the look of it. He'd never been a fan of oatmeal himself, except maybe as cookies. And muffins, oatmeal muffins were all right too, he supposed. This mixture was all lumpy and nasty-looking, but when he carried it over toward Loki, the horse's immediate interest in it was evident by the way his... her... nose snuffled and zeroed in on it.

"Come on, Loki... out of the kitchen. You can eat this in the common room, all right? This way. Nice horsie..."

Loki snorted at that, but followed him anyway, easing out of the kitchen and through the archway into the common room, where Tony set the bowl down on a coffee table, leaving Loki nose-down in the mush and heading back into the kitchen, where Natasha has already risen from her stool and was looking over the contents of the fridge.

"Since my usual scullion seems to be AWOL, you two are standing in for Clint," she told Tony and Bruce, and quickly set Bruce to lining a pair of muffin tins with buttered slices of bread – buttered side out – while Tony grated cheddar and she cut up some ham, while the oven pre-heated. By the time Steve returned, a bale of hay balanced on each shoulder, the muffin tins were just coming out of the oven, toasted bread cups filled with a mix of diced ham, sweet red pepper, green onion, and cheese, with an egg baked over top, lightly sprinkled with freshly grated black pepper and sea salt.

Steve smiled, taking an appreciative deep breath. "That smells amazing, And I was supposed to cook this morning, wasn't I?" he said apologetically.

Natasha smiled warmly at him. "That's okay, you can take my day tomorrow to make up for it."

Steve nodded. "Any requests?"

"French toast," Natasha promptly said.

"I can do that," Steve agreed, then hefted one bale that was starting to slip off his shoulder. "Excuse me while I go put these down."

Natasha smiled and nodded, and went back to carefully removing the breakfast cups from the tins and arranging them on a serving platter.

Clint arrived just as the rest of the team was sitting down to their delayed breakfast, a large plastic shopping bag in hand.

"Find what you were after?" Tony asked as he poured himself a freshly brewed cup of coffee.

"Yup. I'll give Loki a good brushing after breakfast. Not that she's badly in need of one, but she could look better."

"She?" Natasha and Bruce both said, startled.

"Mare," Tony pointed out before taking a big bite of his first breakfast cup, then gave them an overly innocent look. "You mean you didn't you notice?"

* * *

Loki is pleased at first to have disrupted their morning routine, and Stark's shock over her transformation from he to she pleases her even further. What a fool the mortal was, to think that someone who could change their very form could not change the sex of the form they occupied. Especially when there were so many creatures of Midgard who did not adhere to a simple gender binary, mixing up traits that these humans tended to think of as solely 'male' or 'female' in type.

She is at first wary when Barton approaches her; he has usually kept his distance, apart from when feeding her this morning, but she remembers how at ease he seemed with her latest form, and refrains from kicking or nipping at him, though she keeps an eye on him as he removes brushes and combs from the bag he carries, slipping a hand through the loop on the back of one brush before moving even closer.

"Good girl," he says softly, and then begins to curry her. For a moment she stands stock-still, surprised by it, and then shivers her skin with pleasure at the feeling of the brush running over her hide. She has only rarely allowed others to handle her in any form; apart from Rogers lifting her in and out of the wading pool, and Banner briefly touching her face the other day, she cannot remember the last time she was touched without malice or anger behind the action. No, wait; she can. Her mother's hug, in those last days on Asgard before her fall into the void. She was already locked in her cell before Frigga saw her again after Thor dragged her back there, and the All-Father would not allow mother the use of the key to enter it. She remembers how angry mother had been over that, pale-faced and thin-lipped, and finds herself aching for the hug that mother had been unable to give her.

The brush strokes pleasantly over her skin, Barton muttering softly to himself, to her, as he grooms her. The animal form likes this attention, and Loki allows herself to sink back, to still her racing thoughts and just allow her form to enjoy it. It is restful, and her head lowers, eyes shutting in pleasure.

Barton takes his time, giving her coat a thorough brushing, before switching to a comb and spending time untangling and combing out her mane and tail, finishing by rubbing oil into her hooves with a soft cloth. She likes this, she decides, this being groomed and cared for. It reminds her of being a young prince in Asgard, when she and Thor were still equally well-loved by their people, and everyone pampered them and made much of both of them. She ignores the way her mood wants to sour, remembering how that changed as they grew, as she stayed lean and lithe and learned the magics that were traditionally a woman's study rather then becoming a meaty muscle-bound oaf of a warrior like her brother, as Thor grew in fame and she became seen as only his dark shadow, lesser than he.

She forces such thoughts away, preferring to just enjoy this moment, and is surprised to realize that she _is_ enjoying it, fear and anger temporarily suppressed, mind currently at rest.

"Good girl," Clint eventually says again, softly, one hand resting on her shoulder, and she turns her head to look at him, then closes her teeth – carefully! – on the material of his shirt and jerks her head to the side enough to tear it.

Natasha has witnessed this, sitting on the couch nearby, and laughs. "Careful, Barton – just because he's a horse doesn't make him any less Loki."

"So I see," Barton says, ruefully fingering the tear in his shirt. "That wasn't very nice."

Loki snorts, then catches sight of the brush and comb sitting on the table nearby, and feels... something that might be regret, for just a moment, that she has repaid his gentle hands with damage to his apparel. She blows out air and drops her head, then noses at his stomach. He stands very still, hands kept well away from her, and she snorts and noses him harder, so that he has to take a quick step or two backwards to prevent himself from being knocked over. He laughs, startled, and she decides it is time to retreat to her own room for a while.

She drinks some water and chews slowly on some hay while thinking. She feels confused. They have not ignored this form, which is what she had intended, but the attention they have paid to it is not what she expected. It bothers her, more than a little, realizing that no matter how threatening or inconvenient a form she has taken, they have worked to see that she is reasonably comfortable and well-fed, even delaying their own meals to seek out appropriate food for her first.

She wants to believe that it is merely because of Thor, that they wish his favour and therefor treat her well, and yet she finds it difficult to believe; surely that is too simplistic an explanation. And yet they have no reason to treat her well; she is their enemy. She has tried to kill them, in the past, and were her powers freed now she does not think she would hesitate to do them harm and escape.

Would she?


	12. Daily Strangeness Quotient

Tony tossed the soldering iron down on the workbench, frowning at the mess of wires spilling out of the guts of the old computer. The one major problem with having robots that he'd built over twenty years previously was maintaining them; their tech was old, and finding spare bits and pieces to keep them running was increasingly becoming a case of buying elderly junked electronics and pulling them apart to salvage components.

Maybe it was time to rebuild them. Or at least the oldest of them, Dummy, though he was more than a little bit afraid that a new casing and system for Dummy would lose Dummy's current eccentricities, the flaws in his system and code that made Dummy _Dummy_. Not a change he wanted to contemplate; not when Dummy was his second-oldest still-living friend, beaten only by Rhodey. Okay, so technically Dummy wasn't actually _living_, but still-extant friend didn't sound as good in his head. And besides, as far he was concerned, his AIs were just as alive as the meat-bags that filled in most of the planet's population. Maybe even more so, once you started counting in the animal species. Dummy was at least as intelligent as a cat, and certainly more-so than a canary.

And if there was ever a sign it was past time for him to go fall over and sleep for a while, that was probably it, he admitted to himself, and stepped away from the workbench. He eyed the ratty old sofa in one corner of the lab for a moment, then decided he really preferred a better bed tonight, and headed off to the elevators. "Light, Jarvis," he called out as he closed the door.

"_Of course, sir,_" Jarvis replied, and darkened the lab, while opening the door to the waiting elevator. "_Bedroom level?_"

"Kitchen first," Tony said, scratching through his tshirt at the raised scar tissue around his arc reactor. "I should eat. Did I eat supper?"

"_No, sir, you did not._"

"No wonder I'm so hungry. Definitely kitchen," he said, and leaned back against the wall for the short trip up.

The common level was mostly dark, save for the faint glow of LED lights in the entertainment room and kitchen. He almost missed seeing the horse standing in the middle of the darkened common room, until it moved and the paler mane and streak on its face stood out against the darker bulk of its body. He froze for a moment, gasping, then laughed softly. "Trying to give me a heart attack, Dobbin? Very not nice," he scolded, then continued on to the kitchen. He heard the sound of hooves following him, and therefore wasn't surprised when Loki stuck her keg-sized head into the kitchen to watch him as he rooted around in the fridge for leftovers to eat. He noticed someone had restocked on carrots in a big way, and pulled out a couple for her, setting them down on the end of the counter closest to her before sticking a bowl of leftover chicken stew into the microwave to heat for himself.

He leaned against the counter, watching while Loki crunched up the offered carrots, then forced himself to step closer, slowly reaching out one hand. Loki stilled, then lifted her head and stared at his hand and snorted, just once, before pulling back her head fractionally.

Tony folded his arms and smiled crookedly. "You know, this shape-changing thing you can do – this has got to be about the coolest thing _ever_. If I could choose to have only one magic power, it would probably be that. Or maybe mind-reading, that might be pretty cool too, except then I'd know exactly how many people disliked or hated me or even merely tolerated me instead of just having a rough guesstimate. So, yeah, shape-shifting... super-cool, Loki." Thankfully the microwave dinged before he could babble any further, and he hurriedly turned away.

He grabbed the bowl and a soup spoon, and didn't even bother to take a seat, just stood in the middle of the kitchen shovelling the chicken stew into his mouth, all but inhaling it in his hunger. Once he was finished eating, he took the time to rinse both bowl and spoon and toss them into the dishwasher instead of leaving them in the sink, Natasha and Steve having made it abundantly clear that they had Opinions on dirty dishes being left sitting around. He was, he'd been informed, allowed to have all the mould-colony-generating half-empty mugs and bowls full of drying crud in his own lab and the workshop off the garage as he wished; he was not allowed to litter their shared living area with same. He'd tried to fight it, on the basis of the tower technically being _his_, but Pepper, on one of her infrequent visits from the west coast, had come in on Steve and Natasha's side and that had put an end to that.

Loki was still standing there watching him. He walked closer, lifting up one hand again. Loki stayed completely still this time, until his hand touched the velvety-soft skin of her nose, then moved suddenly, huge blunt teeth closing around his hand just firmly enough to indicate that Loki could easily crush it, but not hard enough to actually hurt. Tony froze, both of them standing still as stone until Loki finally released his hand. Tony released a breath he hadn't even been aware he was holding. "Damn but do you ever blow hot and cold," he said. "Clint grooming you all over is fine, but my touching your nose is not?"

Loki made a snorting sound, then took a step forward, and lowered her head, ears swivelling back and forth. Tony wasn't sure what to do, then hesitantly reached out again, this time avoiding the nose and letting his fingers come to rest higher up, around what would be the forehead on a human, between and above the eyes. It was called something else on a horse, he knew, but couldn't remember what. Loki remained still, then lifted and dropped her head just the tiniest bit, so his fingertips rubbed back and forth across the hide there.

"Are you saying it's all right for me to scratch your head?" he asked, unable to keep a little amazement out of his voice.

Another snort, ears swivelling again, before laying back just slightly, one massive fore-hoof tilting so that only its leading edge was still resting on the ground. Tony decided that was possibly a slightly hostile yes, and tentatively rubbed with his fingertips. Loki remained silent, but leaned just the tiniest bit into the touch. He gradually let his fingers rub a bit more firmly, working his way up toward the leading edge of the mane, between Loki's ears. After a moment the lifted hoof slowly lowered flat to the floor again, ears relaxing back to their normal upright position.

This had to rank among the top ten weirdest things he'd ever done, maybe even the top three, Tony decided. Which was saying a lot, given some of the incredibly stupid and/or weird things he could recall doing in his life. Mind you anything having to do with weird interactions with the Aesir might deserve an entire top ten list of their own, entirely separate from mere mortal weirdness, which said a lot more given that things like his arc reactor and the Iron Man suits were on his mortal weirdness list.

And that thought was maybe another sign that it was well past time for him to go to bed. He ended the scratching, stepping carefully out of range of those big teeth. "Night, Loki... I think I've surpassed my daily strangeness quotient and then some," he said, and headed off to his own level and bed.

* * *

"Another horse?" Tony said, looking at the black-coated horse occupying a sizable chunk of the common room.

"Yeah," Clint agreed, not even glancing up from grooming Loki. "An Arabian, I think. Stallion, before you ask."

"Right," Tony said, and circled around the horse, looking him over. Loki was a lot smaller now, with an almost fragile look to him, due mostly to long slender legs and a deeply-dished face. He looked around as Tony passed him, then returned to munching the contents of a large bowl in front of him; a mix of something grass-like, grain, and chopped fruits and vegetables, it looked like.

Tony continued on to the kitchen, where he was pleased to find the coffee maker just finishing off brewing a fresh pot of coffee. Steve was standing at the stove, making French toast, and judging by the evidence of near-empty bowls of whipped cream, chocolate sauce, raspberries, blueberries, and sliced strawberries and peaches, almost everyone else had already eaten, and in quantity. Natasha was seated at the breakfast bar still, working her way through a serving that looked to be more toppings than toast.

"Morning Cap, 'Tasha," Tony said, as he poured himself a mug of coffee. "You know, breakfasts like this make me think that inviting all of you to move into the tower was one of my best ideas ever."

"One of Pepper's best ideas, you mean," Natasha said, as she carefully cut off another forkful of French toast.

"Nope, I had the idea, she just implemented it," Tony insisted. "Though she is the best implementer ever. And the best CEO ever. And my best friend ever, which reminds me, Jarvis, isn't she about due for another visit?"

"_Yes sir, Ms Potts and guest are due to arrive the day after tomorrow._"

"And guest?" Steve said, sounding surprised, as he looked up from sliding some freshly cooked slices of French toast onto a plate, which he held out to Tony.

"Yeah, she's bringing her new boyfriend along," Tony answered, accepting the plate and managing to keep his voice light with an effort of will, and ignoring the way Steve and Natasha glanced at each other, then him. Yes, it hurt that Pepper had finally moved on from their failed attempts at having a relationship, but, dammit... She was his best friend in the history of ever. He wanted her to be happy. As long as this new guy made her happy, then Tony was fine with that. He would not act like a spoiled child and do anything to hurt Pepper, not even give Mr New Guy the shovel talk. Though not giving the talk didn't mean he wouldn't come down with the full weight of his displeasure if said new guy ever did anything to hurt Pep.

He fixed up his French toast – just a drizzle of maple syrup, he wasn't in the mood for fiddling around with fancier toppings – and ate a few bites, attention focused on his plate. "I'd say we should do a nice party for her or something, but Pepper has always been the one that arranged those for me," he said after a while. "And I don't think asking her to arrange her own welcoming party would be right. Besides, if I did, she'd feel like she had to make it a big party, because I always throw big parties, and I don't think she actually likes big parties all that much..."

Natasha reached over and squeezed his arm as he trailed off. "Don't worry, Tony," she said. "Tell you what... we can do a nice casual lunch party, all of us together; it'll give us an excuse to use the dining room for once. And then you can take her and her beau out somewhere nice for dinner."

Tony looked up. "Really? You think she'd like that?" He couldn't keep the hopefulness out of his voice. Natasha _knew_ Pepper, more closely than any other of the Avengers save himself; they'd become friends when she was working undercover at Stark Industries way back when, and had remained friends ever since. He could trust her judgement, he was certain. He frowned suddenly. "I'd feel like a third wheel if it was just her and me and the new guy. Or worse, I'd make the new guy feel like a third wheel. Should I bring a date maybe?"

Natasha smiled. "Bring a date, sure. But _don't_ hire an escort, all right?"

"You should ask a female friend along," Steve suggested, nodding agreement as he took a seat with his own oversized plate full of breakfast.

"I don't have many of those. Or would you like to come, Natasha?"

Natasha shrugged. "If you can't find someone else, sure, though Pepper and I already have a girl's night out of our own planned for while she's here. But you have more female friends than just me. Maria, Jane, Darcy..."

"Okay, I will admit that I do get along reasonably well with Agent Hill, but we're not even on a first-name basis yet, and I don't think we're anywhere near inviting-her-out-to-dinner-with-my-ex levels of friendship. I doubt Thor would be happy with me if I invited Jane to dinner unless it involved the entire group of us, though... Darcy. Yeah, Darcy might be fun. Girl's got a wicked sense of humour."

"And she's a fast draw with her taser," Natasha said approvingly. "Which should stop you from making an ass of yourself even if you do drink too much."

"Hey! I wouldn't do that to Darcy! She's... she's like the spunky kid sister I never had and never knew I wanted or needed until after I met her, all right? I'll call her," he said, and pushed away his empty plate, fumbling for his phone only to realize he was still in pyjama pants and it was still somewhere in his bedroom. "Later, you two – thanks for the excellent breakfast, Steve," he said, snagged the bowl of leftover peach slices, and hurried off.

* * *

Loki ghosts through the apartment, at least those parts of it accessible to him. He is still enjoying being a horse, even if it is only slightly better than the bear at using the interface. He has surprisingly good vision, able to see almost all the way around himself, but is reduced to nosing at oversized buttons in a greatly expanded panel since this form has low dexterity. Reading for any length of time makes his eyes and head hurt, but he has enjoyed his initial forays into the use of the internet, and can foresee spending much time exploring it.

He is surprised to hear sound from the common room this late at night, and enters it to find Stark sitting at the bar, drinking and singing softly to himself. Stark turns at the sound of his approach, and grins cheerfully at him.

"Mr Ed!" Stark exclaims, voice a little slurred, and then grins. "Come to join me in a drink?"

Loki snorts; he does not much care for alcoholic beverages at the best of times, and while there might be one or two that this form would not find noxious in taste, he has no desire to seek them out. He comes to a stop, simply looking at Stark, finding it hard for a moment to believe that this is the man who was such a keystone of the effort that defeated Loki's invasion plans.

"Probably not good for you, anyway," Stark says, and knocks back what is left in his glass, then sits and frowns at it for a moment. "Not good for me either. Or so I am told. Repeatedly." He falls silent for a while, seeming to have forgotten Loki's presence, then puts down his glass and rises to his feet. "I should get to bed," he says.

Loki watches as Stark moves a few steps away, then turns around and walks back, picks up the empty glass and the half-empty bottle, and pours himself another drink, his hands surprisingly steady. "Just one more," Stark says, clearly enunciating carefully. "Don't drink much any more. Pepper never liked it. An I'm not supposed to now that I'mma Avenger. No drunk flying allowed."

Stark walks over to the couch and lays down on it, drink held carelessly in one hand, and studies the liquid within the glass. Loki moves a few steps closer after a while, wondering what fascinates the man so, then snorts at the unpleasant smell of the alcohol.

"I know my limit," Stark says, sounding tired now, and then stretches to the side, putting the untouched drink down on the coffee table. He points his finger at it afterwards, scowling. "Not drinking you. Had enough," he says, then cranes his head around to look at Loki. "Can I scratch your head again?" he asks, sounding almost wistful, and lifts one hand up into the air.

Loki stares at him, then hesitantly steps forward, lowering his head, keeping one eye turned warily on the human as fingers come to rest on his cheek, scratching erratically but pleasantly against his cheek and jaw. He lowers and turns his head slightly after a while, to bring Stark's fingers to a spot where the scratching feels particularly pleasant.

"It's too bad you keep taking such big or weird forms," Stark says after a while, hand dropping away. Stark yawns, and rolls over, curling up on the couch. "Could take you outside maybe, if you were something that would fit on the elevator. And wouldn't scare the neighbours." Stark yawns again. He is silent after that, until he begins snoring.

Loki stands and considers Stark's words for some time before returning to his own room.


	13. A Rambling Walk

The sound of Natasha exclaiming loudly in Russian had Tony scrambling to sit up even before he was fully awake. He realized he was not in his own bed only just in time to prevent himself from rolling right off the side of the couch, and looked around to see what had Natasha so upset.

The first thing he noticed was that the expression on her face was more one of surprise than anything that might be characterized as anger, worry or fear. He turned to look at what she was staring at, and found his own jaw dropping just a little bit. A dog was lying on the floor nearby, long-nosed head lifted to look back and forth between both of them. Stretched out, it was almost as long as the oversized couch, with long slender legs and a narrow body with the deep chest and tucked-in waist that he associated with fast runners like greyhounds. Unlike a greyhound, however, it was covered in a froth of long wavy black hair. As he watched, it pushed itself upright into a sitting position, long feathery tail wrapping around its paws. Standing, it would come at least hip-high on most of the Avengers.

"I should know what breed that it," Tony said, perplexed. "I've seen that somewhere before."

Natasha laughed, and walked further into the room. "Possibly in your mother's collection of Art Nouveau sculptures and prints," she said. "He's a Borzoi."

"A Bor-what?"

"A Borzoi, sometimes called a Russian wolfhound... they showed up a lot in Art Nouveau pieces, because of their elegant curves," she said, and then to Tony's surprise went down on one knee to take a closer look at Loki. Loki, for his part, remained very still, watching her with the same wary expression that Tony had seen on his assorted faces a number of times now.

Natasha said something softly in Russian, then slowly reached out. Loki stiffened, head turning quickly to watch her approaching hand. Natasha froze, and waited. Loki turned his attention back to her face, then slowly relaxed again, head dipping just slightly. Natasha moved again, hand moving out to stroke at the fur of his neck and back. "Beautiful," she said after a moment, then looked over her shoulder at Tony. "They were the dogs of the Russian aristocracy, once," she said. "And sometimes a much-prized gift from the Russian royal family to nobility in other countries. Many of them were killed during the revolution; too much of a symbol of wealth and power, you see. But some survived, and people outside of Russia kept the breed going as well."

She turned her attention back to Loki, and smiled again, a warmer smile than Tony was used to seeing on her face. She rose to her feet again, and Loki stood up as well, glancing once at Tony before turning and leading the way to the kitchen, Natasha following along behind.

Tony rose as well, grimacing at how sore and unwashed he felt after a night on the couch, and decided to duck downstairs to his floor to shower and change before returning to help with breakfast; it was Bruce's day for it, which made Tony the designated scullion. He took a very fast shower and changed into clean clothes, then returned back upstairs. Natasha had fed Loki, who was busy licking his bowl clean, and run the coffee maker, and was busy on her phone, Clint slouched down on the stool beside her, looking half-asleep despite the nearly empty coffee mug propped up in both hands.

Bruce was poking around in the fridge already, and peered over his shoulder at Tony. "I was thinking scones and smoothies," he said.

"Sounds good to me," Tony agreed. Bruce's vegetarian diet meant the breakfasts he made tended to be heavy on fruits, vegetables, nuts and grain, with only occasional use of milk and eggs. Bruce soon had Tony preparing fruit and vegetables to go into the blender, while Bruce mixed together the scone dough, adding nuts and dried fruit to it for extra flavour. Bruce soon had a couple trays of scones baking in the oven.

Tony set up the blenders – they had three – along the counter, and Bruce worked his way along the row, adding yogurt, juice, whey powder and different assortments of vegetables and berries to each, as well as some wheatgrass to one, and honey to another. The kitchen was soon filled with the roar of the blenders working, turning the mix of ingredients into three different flavours of smoothies.

Tony was amused at the way Loki jumped and looked around when they turned the first blender on. The dog stared at the machines, his ears going back, then turned and left the kitchen, back slightly hunched.

The scones, still warm from the oven, and the fruity smoothies made a nice breakfast, though Tony did find himself thinking a little wistfully about how long it had been since he'd last had a nice big unhealthy (and greasy) breakfast of fried everything. Steve would on occasion – when Bruce was away, mainly – make things like bacon, sausages, eggs and so forth, but usually the closest they had to a fried breakfast was pancakes or French toast, neither of which were quite what Tony himself would consider fried. Delicious, yes, but not _fried_.

They had an impromptu team meeting during the meal, discussing plans for lunch the next day. Natasha volunteered to see to the food if the rest of the team would see to cleaning the place up. Tony had gotten an enthusiastic yes from Darcy as his guest for dinner the next evening, and had laughed when the second thing she'd pointed out was that she'd need a killer dress and shoes for it, knowing the sort of places he liked to dine out. He'd sent over his driver with a company card and car, and instructions to see that Darcy had fun shopping. Knowing Darcy, he wouldn't be surprised to find a few extra purchases on the card, more than just the stated dress and shoes, but even if she went on a crazed day-long shopping spree she'd have a hard time putting a dent in even just his daily earnings, so he wasn't overly worried about it.

"So who wants to walk the dog?" Tony asked once the meal and meeting were both over.

"I have dibs," Natasha announced. "I already called a pet store for necessary supplies; the collar and leash should be delivered shortly."

"You're going to attempt to put an actual leash on Loki?" Clint said, giving her a dubious look.

"I don't think he'll be very happy about that," Steve pointed out, Bruce and Tony nodding agreement.

Natasha shrugged. "He can like it, or stay here... New York has strict leash laws, if he's going to go out he needs to be on one, no more than six feet in length."

"Yeah, well, good luck with that," Tony said dubiously.

They all found reason to be in or near the common room after Natasha's package arrived later that morning; not just a collar and leash, but grooming supplies as well, more combs and brushes to join those they already had on hand from Loki' time as a horse. As soon as Loki saw the leash he rose and backed up, back hunching almost like a cat's with the level of his distaste. Natasha sat down on one of the chairs with the collar and leash in her lap and talked at him for a couple of minutes, in Russian, then held up the collar again.

It was a rather nice collar, a wide strip of dark green leather with polished brass fittings, set with a row of small rhinestones spaced every inch along it; pretty, but not overly gaudy. The leash was the same green leather and brass, though without rhinestones. After a few minutes of looking fixedly away while Natasha talked, Loki looked back over to her, then slowly relaxed again, before finally sidling closer to her. He sniffed over the collar, then looked away again. He tensed a little but remained still as she fastened the collar around his neck, leaving it a little on the loose side and carefully smoothing his fur down around it, before finally snapping the leash on and rising to her feet.

"Well?" Natasha said, raising an eyebrow at Tony where he was leaning in the kitchen doorway, a mug of coffee in hand.

"Wouldn't have believed it could be done if I hadn't just seen it," Tony said. "Fine. Loki... you can go out with Natasha for a while. Stay close to her; within leash distance, unless she lets you off and says you can run around for a bit. You're to return to heel if she calls you. Don't keep him out too late, Natasha."

"We'll be back in a few hours at most," she said, then looked down at Loki, who was staring at Tony with one lip raised to show his fangs. "Coming, Loki?"

Loki looked up at her and gave a single slow wave of his tail, then placidly followed along at heel as she strode off to the elevators and left.

"Jarvis, do what you can to keep an eye on Natasha and Loki, please... let me know if he tries anything."

"_Of course, sir._"

* * *

Loki is pleased to get out of the Avengers' quarters for a while, even if it means having to wear a collar and be kept on a leash. The woman has explained about _leash laws_ and other local ordinances related to pets, and Loki understands that other people will not realize he is more than a dog, and will ignore him as long as he is quiet and clearly with a human. He is pleased with his choice of form, and pleased too with how well he looks with the woman; Natasha has dressed up for their walk, in a charcoal grey jacket and skirt over a lace-edged silky black top, with heavy bracelets and earrings of gold and haematite, and a scarf around her neck almost the same green as his collar. They look like they belong together, a set, and draw many appreciative looks and even a few comments from those they pass.

The city smells, a mix of unpleasant and intriguing odours, and the sidewalks are crowded with too many people, so that he finds himself pressing up against her legs and glancing nervously around, surrounded by too much of everything after the quiet of the tower and the even longer isolation of his cell. She touches his head, soothingly, and soon takes them to quieter side streets, where he is able to calm down somewhat. After a long walk they reach a large park, one that occupies a sizable proportion of the island they are on. It is even quieter there, and smells more of growing things and a mix of wild and tame animals. He finds it much easier to stay calm there.

After a while she finds a bench in a wooded area and sits down. She takes a book out of her hand-bag and opens it, then reads. He sits down by her feet, looking around at the trees, the sunlight dappling the walkway, people walking and jogging past them. There is open water somewhere near, he can smell it, and a squirrel in the tree overhead, scolding some other animal. Eventually he stretches out on the ground, chin resting on her shoes, and just rests for a while.

He is feeling much calmer when she finally puts the book away and rises to her feet again, Loki lurching to his own feet as she does. They resume their walk, and she stops eventually on the edge of the park, buying a meal from a cart, a tube of some meaty substance in a long bread bun. She buys three, putting toppings on one to eat herself, and feeds him the other two plain. They taste better than he expects from their smell.

They walk again, back the way they have come though by a different route, through the park and then back through the city streets. He finds it easier to ignore the noise and bustle now. He is pleased when she removes the collar as soon as they enter the elevator in the tower. The common room is empty, except for Rogers sitting on one of the couches reading a magazine. He looks up as they enter the room, and smiles warmly at Natasha.

"How was your walk?" he asks.

"Good," she says. "We went up to Central Park and back. I sat and read in the Ramble for a while."

Loki stretches out on the floor, near the corner where he lived his first few days here. He is pleasantly tired from the long walk, but not in any real need of sleep.

"Did you have lunch yet?" Rogers asks, sounding hopeful.

Natasha shrugs. "A hot dog."

"Oh," Rogers says, sounding crestfallen.

"I could still eat," Natasha says.

Rogers smiles, and rises to his feet. "I was thinking of making sandwiches."

"Sounds good to me," she says, and the two disappear into the kitchen together. Loki feels no pull to follow her, so decides the spell restrictions holding him near here must have already reset to his usual areas here at the tower. He rests for a while in the common room, listening to the sounds of the two talking and eating, then eventually withdraws to his own room.

Loki lets his form play for a while, while he thinks about what he has seen this morning. This form has surprisingly destructive impulses, further tearing apart the shreds of his original blanket, rooting around in the straw left from his time as a horse, and gnawing apart one of the balls before finally settling down on the mattress with one of the toys that is actually meant for chewing on. The current mess of the room annoys him; he prefers things nice and neat, unless he is in the mood for chaos, and he usually prefers such chaos to be elsewhere than his personal spaces.

After a while he tries out using the interface. Music does not work out well; most of it hurts his ears, or gives him a strong urge to bark and howl. Finally he finds something pleasant, slow and soft, and while it plays he noses all the balls into one corner of the room, corralled in with some of the less mobile toys, then sits down by the interface and reads for a while. It still gives him a headache in this form, but not as bad a one as he had in other forms, and his vision is good, apart from missing some ranges of colour. He takes a break, and does what he can to remove the shredded blanket and wisps of hay that are scattered across his mattress, reads a little more, and then sits by the windows for a while, watching the city outside.

Eventually he tires of the solitude, and returns to the common room again. Banner and Stark are there, Banner typing on a laptop, Stark stretched out on the couch reading the magazine that Rogers was looking at earlier. Loki sneaks quietly over, and sticks his nose against the side of Stark's neck, which makes the man jump and yell and give him a dirty look, much to Loki's amusement.

"Asshole dog," Stark says, sitting up.

Banner looks up and smiles, looking almost as amused as Loki feels. "God of Mischief," he points out.

"True," Stark says, then frowns at Loki.

Loki sidles back closer to him, then rests his head on Stark's knee and rolls his eyes to look up at Stark's face. Stark snorts, but then does what Loki wants anyway, and scratches at his head, as he had done when Loki was a horse. It feels just as good in this form as it did as a horse, and Loki is content to just remain there for a while, letting Stark scratch and pet him. He is aware of the amused looks Banner keeps giving him, but not bothered by them, though after a while he abandons Stark and walks over to rest his head on the arm of the chair where Banner is sitting, and stares at him until Banner laughs and pets him as well.

He is surprised by how pleased the laughter and scratching makes him feel, but only a little; it is the instincts of the form influencing his own moods, he knows, but he is content to allow it for now.

Perhaps he will remain in this form for another day or two before changing again; they are lowering their guard around him, and that can only be beneficial.


	14. Double Date

"_Ms Potts and guest are on their way up, sir._"

"How do I look, do I look okay?" Tony asked nervously, glancing around at the other three gathered in the common room; Bruce, Clint, and Natasha. Steve was out on his morning run, and had taken Loki along with him.

"You look fine, Tony," Bruce assured him, while Clint looked amused and Natasha had one of her more inscrutable expressions, though she gave him a tiny nod of approval.

Not that he'd dressed up for Pepper's arrival, of course, not in, like, a business suit or anything, just... okay, so he was wearing new custom-fitted jeans and leather shoes instead of sneakers, and an actual nice white shirt that _might_ be raw silk instead of the worn tshirts he usually favoured, but no tie and the top few buttons were undone and he'd made sure to sleep the night before and thoroughly shower this morning and _oh god_ he felt like he was a teenaged kid again, a teenager who hadn't a clue about anything. How did Pepper manage to make him feel like this when she wasn't even in the _room_.

His racing thoughts cut off as the elevator chimed. He took a step forward as Pepper walked out into the lobby, looked around, saw him, then smiled that smile that always made his heart lift and his day feel better, even if they were no longer a thing. He hurried the rest of the way to her after that, hugging her, being careful to keep it informal, air-kisses only, friendly but not _too_ friendly, not when she was with someone else now. Speaking of... he looked around to see this new guy she was with, but the only person in sight was Happy Hogan, standing there looking surprisingly dapper is a much more nicely-fitted outfit than he usually wore, sharply-pressed dark grey slacks and a shirt, not his usual white but a pale blue with a narrow dark blue stripe and matching tie. He'd done something with his hair, a less messy cut, and the incipient paunch he'd been flirting with for the last few years was gone; he looked like he must be working out regularly again, not to mention getting a little more sun.

"Hap! God, being Pepper's Chief of Security clearly agrees with you, you're looking good," Tony said, reaching out to clasp hands, grinning, then turned back to Pepper. "I thought you were bringing a guest? Your new guy?"

Pepper smiled, and blushed just the slightest bit, glancing at Happy before opening her mouth to answer. It was the glance that made the coin drop for Tony. "Oh my god... _Happy!_ Are you Pepper's new guy!? Pepper, are you and Happy... woah. _Woah_, I did not expect that."

Pepper laughed, and Happy grinned, and Pepper reached out and took Happy's hand, lacing their fingers together, and all Tony could think for a moment was how good the pair of them looked together, and how much silent communication and affection there was in the longer glance the two of them exchanged, a kind of look he and Pepper had only shared maybe a handful of times in all their own time together. It hurt, for just a moment, knowing she'd never look at him that way again. The pair of them were both blushing now, before Pepper turned back to him and answered, speaking carefully. "Yes, Tony, Happy and I are together. This isn't going to be a problem, I hope?"

The slight tone of worry in her voice was like a dash of cold water, and he quickly shook his head. "Not a problem at all. A surprise yes, and... damn, you two crazy kids!" he exclaimed, and spread his arms wide, pulling them both into an enthusiastic hug that made Pepper laugh and Happy squeak. "I'm happy for the both of you, I really am," he said. And he was, he realized. He'd wanted Pepper and him to be right together, but he knew how wrong it had always gone between them, the whole long list in his head of every time he'd messed things up which, he was honest enough with himself these days to admit, was almost every single time and all his own fault. Pepper deserved someone like Happy, someone who'd treat her like the treasure she was, and while it would never stop hurting at least a little bit that he wasn't the right guy for her, he couldn't help feeling glad that two of his favourite people in the entire world had turned out to be right for each other.

After that it was all herding them into the common room, and more greetings. Pepper and Natasha hugged tightly, then drew to one side taking quietly and giggling to each other briefly as Tony introduced Happy to Bruce and Clint. Happy shook Natasha's hand after, grinning widely and telling her he hoped she'd give him a rematch while he was here, and hoping he'd last more than the few seconds he had the last time they'd sparred. The group of them ended up sitting down together in the common room, Happy and Pepper in the middle of the long couch with Natasha by Pepper and Clint by Happy, Bruce and Tony sharing the smaller couch across from them. Trays of little finger-food snacks had appeared from somewhere – Natasha's doing, Tony suspected – and beverages of the non-alcoholic kind, and it was a surprisingly pleasant time, sitting there and talking, Happy and Pepper telling Tony-gets-in-trouble stories and the others laughing and telling some of their own, thankfully not just about Tony or he suspected he'd have started to feel picked on after a while.

Steve came back from his jog about an hour after they'd all settled in, clearly having stopped off on his own floor to shower and change before joining them, his hair still damp and Loki following at heel, the leash already removed, carried folded in Steve's hand. He dropped it on an end table as he hurried across the room to greet Pepper, a wide smile crossing his face as she rose to hug him, the two having become good friends in the year since the attack on New York, regularly IMing back and forth to each other on Skype. Tony suspected there was a certain amount of eye-rolling oh-Tony exchanges between the pair of them, but he didn't mind, Cap had few enough friends as it was without Tony begrudging him another one.

Loki was making the round of the room, getting scratches from people, and once Pepper had sat down again after introducing Happy to Steve as her significant other, Loki walked over and put his head on her knees, clearly begging for attention from her as well.

"Oh my god, I didn't know you guys had a pet... when did this happen? He's gorgeous! What's his name?" Pepper asked, as she let Loki sniff at her hand, and then enthusiastically scratched around his ears and neck with both hands.

"Oh, right," Tony said nervously, and frowned. "Um. He's Loki."

Pepper looked up, eyebrows raising. "You named him after Thor's brother?"

"No, I mean he's actually Loki."

Pepper froze for a moment, then leaned sharply back in her seat, hands flying wide as she recoiled from the dog. "That's _Loki?_ What... what, are you crazy!? _Tony!_"

Tony flushed, and quickly snapped his fingers. "Loki... heel." The dog gave him what could only be called a dirty look, but walked over and sat down on the floor by his feet, ears laid back. "Look, Thor asked us to look after him; something about the chitauri showing up in Asgard and trying to either liberate or kidnap him from his cell, Thor's explanation wasn't exactly very coherent on that point, and apparently Asgard is now at war with them, and Thor felt Loki would be safer here on earth for whatever reason, so... Loki," Tony said, and held both hands out toward the dog in his best game-show-hostess-presenting-a-prize imitation. Loki yawned widely, showing a rather nastily impressive array of big white teeth. "He's bound with magic to prevent him using his powers for evil, and supposed to be completely safe to have on hand while in animal forms, so, yeah, it's kind of been a zoo here the last few weeks."

Pepper was now giving Tony her patented Tony-I-can't-believe-I'm-hearing-what-you're-sayin g-you-_are_-crazy look.

"Guys? Help me out here?" Tony asked.

"It's fine, Pepper, it really is," Steve assured her, shooing Clint away and moving to sit down on the edge of the couch beside Happy, who was keeping quiet but sitting up alertly, keeping a watchful eye on Loki. "He can only go where Tony tells him he can, which means that he's pretty much confined to the tower."

"That doesn't make me feel all that much better about this, Steve," Pepper said, still watching Loki with an expression bordering on horror. "Considering what he did around here the last time he was in the tower."

Natasha took her hand, and patted it. "We're all keeping a close eye on him, including Jarvis," she said. "He is never unobserved, and his powers are bound. At least until Asgard is ready to take him back, this is the most secure place he could possibly be kept."

Pepper frowned, then sighed. "Does SHIELD know about this?" she asked.

That led to everyone except her and Happy exchanging looks.

"Um. I don't think any of us have mentioned it to anyone outside of the Avengers, no," Steve finally said.

"And I think overall we'd prefer not involving SHIELD," Tony said.

"I'll second that," Bruce agreed. "Their most likely reaction would be to want him in their own hands, and...," he smiled thinly and shrugged. "You all know I'm not a fan of the way they handle people they'd like to study."

Pepper looked back and forth between Clint and Natasha. "Not even you two?"

Clint shrugged. "Nat and I may have told Coulson, but only after he agreed to not tell Fury anything about it unless it became necessary."

Natasha nodded. "We can trust Coulson. But as far as the rest of SHIELD goes... well, I judged that this is a case where it's easier to ask for forgiveness than request permission. Thor would be very unhappy with us if we turned his brother over to someone else after he very specifically entrusted us with Loki's care and safety, and I'd rather not cause an interplanetary diplomatic incident if it can be avoided."

Loki had made a sound at hearing Thor named as his brother, but otherwise just sat calmly, turning his head around to watch people as they spoke. Pepper sat staring at him again, lips pursed, and he stared back for a moment, then turned his head away, resting it on Tony's knee. Tony's hand slid closer, fingertips scratching gently at the base of his ear, and Loki tilted his head a little, eyes closing, obviously enjoying the attention.

Pepper sighed. "All right. I'm still not very happy about this development, but if all of you think you have it under control, I'm not going to fight it. Just try and give me some warning if this all blows up and you need me on damage control, okay?"

Tony smiled, relieved. "You're the best, Pepper."

"I know," she said dryly, then glanced at Natasha. "Now, I believe there was talk of a group lunch?"

* * *

"Jarvis, how long have you known that Pepper and Happy were together?" Tony asked, as he sorted through his wardrobe, choosing what to wear to dinner.

"_I don't know what you mean, sir._"

"Oh come on... Ms Potts _and guest_ are on their way up? You know who Happy is and didn't use his name. On purpose, I would assume. Fess up, Jarvis – you _knew._"

"_Yes, sir, I did know, but Ms Potts had requested that I not reveal such information to you until such time as she had revealed it to you herself. Since you granted her discretionary powers over what details of her life you were to be privy to, I decided that this was a reasonable request and granted it, sir. Did I act wrongly?_"

Tony frowned for a moment, then sighed. "No, Jarvis, you did exactly right. Keep it up."

"_Of course sir. And might I suggest the silver-grey suit, with a navy shirt and indigo tie and socks._"

"Ah... let me guess, you know what Darcy bought?"

"_Yes, sir._"

"Sounds good to me then," Tony said, knowing he could trust Jarvis to make sure he looked well with whatever his date was wearing. He laid out the clothing, then ducked into the bathroom for a quick shower and shave, wanting to look his best for the double-date night. Even if having Darcy there as his date was almost exactly like dating his sister, if he'd had a sister. He smiled, thinking of how much fun it would have been to grow up with Darcy as a kid sister, though she'd have had to be quite a few years older for that to work. Technically he was old enough to be her father, which was a rather depressing thought.

Lunch had gone well, he found himself thinking. He'd temporarily banished Loki to his room, since the god's presence made Pepper uneasy, and then they'd all had a wonderful lunch in the rarely-used dining room, the food a group effort of Natasha, Steve and Bruce, after which he and Pepper had spent some time in her office further down in the tower, handling some of the necessary paperwork related to the company. Happy, meanwhile, got to spend a little time hanging out with the Avengers, including getting in some gym time with Cap and Clint, and a rematch with Natasha afterwards where he'd managed to last almost twenty seconds against her, a new record, though Tony suspected that Natasha had been going easy on him. Pepper and Happy hadn't headed back to their hotel – Pepper having turned down a room in the tower for this trip, he guessed because she'd wanted to be certain how he'd react to the news of her and Happy's relationship – until mid-afternoon.

Which reminded him... "Jarvis, open a channel to Loki's quarters."

"_Yes, sir. Channel open._"

"Loki, our guests have departed and your usual room permissions are back in effect. Knock yourself out. Close channel, Jarvis."

"_Done, sir._"

"Great. Is the car ready?"

"_It is still en route from Ms Lewis' apartment but should arrive within the next five minutes, sir._"

"Excellent timing," Tony said, and headed off to catch the elevator down to ground level.

* * *

"Wow, you look good," Tony told Darcy as he slipped into the back seat with her. "Enjoy your spending spree?"

Darcy smiled warmly at him. "Very much, thank you," she told him. She was wearing a thigh-length top of some silky fabric in indigo, with a pleated cross-over front, belted with a chain of wide flat silver links, dark grey skinny pants that made her legs seem longer than they actually were – she was shorter than Tony himself was – with glossy black high-heeled sandals with silver buckles that he estimated were almost tall enough to make her the same height as him. She also had a beaded silvery-grey purse with a silver chain strap that was a good match for the belt slung over one shoulder, and a chunky silver necklace with matching earrings. "Thanks for inviting me. And for the outfit."

"My pleasure, to both of those. Thanks for agreeing to come on such short notice. So how are things going at work?"

They spent half of the trip to the restaurant talking about her work as Jane and Erik's assistant, no longer in the lab – the pair had actual trained interns for that now – but as their administrative assistant-gofer-nanny-Jill of all trades.

"You're like their Jarvis," he told her. "But with more personality and a physical body."

Darcy laughed. "Knowing how competent and full of personality Jarvis is, I'll take that as a compliment. I feel like I'm their mother half the time, making sure they remember to eat and sleep enough and change their clothes regularly and stuff, for all that they're both older than I am. But the salary isn't bad and with all the international travel they're doing lately to take readings in foreign locations, I'm getting at least a little use out of the political science degree, mostly by making sure they don't get into trouble with local customs and laws and things like that."

"Interesting work."

"Could be worse," Darcy said, and smiled happily. "I enjoy the travel, and the getting to hang out with the Avengers occasionally is a nice bonus too, especially when it leads to shopping sprees. Most of my classmates would probably kill for my job, if they knew what it actually involved."

Tony laughed. "SHIELD still making you keep mum about everything?"

"Yeah. Most everyone I know, including my parents, think I work a 9-to-5 office job, though my parents at least know I travel a lot; supposedly I have a globe-trotting boss who prefers to drag her personal assistant everywhere with her instead of having to rely on strange foreign help, which isn't that far from the truth. Though rather than an absent-minded professor type she's supposed to be more like a female you, I suppose."

Tony laughed again. "Yeah, more like what I used to be, I don't do that any more. Not since I gave my PA the company, anyway."

Darcy grinned. "Let me know if you ever need a new PA, that kind of compensation package sounds pretty sweet."

Tony wrinkled his nose. "Believe me, running a multi-national corporation is not actually all that enjoyable. Pepper thrives on it but that's because it's the sort of work she actually likes, and is kind of amazingly good at. I can't picture you enjoying it. The income, sure, and maybe some of the hob-nobbing, but not the job itself."

"True, I think I'd rather go back to being Jane's underpaid PA in New Mexico than have to spend as much time in business meetings and schmoozing with politicians and so on as I hear Pepper has to do. Okay, so pass on being your PA. How about being your official arm-candy? I wouldn't say no to more shopping sprees; I could totally be your platonic trophy girlfriend who keeps the gold-diggers from throwing themselves at you."

"That might be doable. Consider this your trial placement, Ms Lewis," he said, trying to sound business-like and serious, but knowing he was smiling far too much to really carry it off.

"Of course, Mr Stark," she said very solemnly. They both laughed.

They were still smiling when they got out of the car in front of the restaurant a couple minutes later, Tony being very gentlemanly in helping her out of the car. There were a few paparazzi hanging around outside – it was that sort of restaurant – so he played it up for the cameras, settling his arm around her waist as they headed for the doors, the two of them exchanging broad smiles as they walked to the door, a few flashbulbs going off to capture pictures of Tony Stark with his latest fling.

Inside was quiet, a nicely subdued atmosphere. Tony was well-known here, and they were shown to the small room he'd reserved immediately. Pepper and Happy showed up as Tony was about to take his own seat after showing Darcy into hers, and introductions and greetings were done, Pepper looking at Darcy with real interest after finding out she was Dr Foster's assistant and familiar with all the Avengers. The two of them soon had their heads together, doubtless comparing notes on what it was like to be around superheroes, while Tony and Happy talked cars for a while.

Tony was pleased by how well the meal went, without any embarrassing incidents, just a lot of good conversation between friends over some very well-made food and fine wines.

"I think I'd better go powder my nose before dessert," Darcy eventually said. "Excuse me, please."

"I think I'll do the same," Pepper said, and rose as well, the two women heading off together.

Tony smiled as he watched them leave, then turned to Happy. "Happy... I just want to say, I'm really pleased for you and Pepper."

"Thanks. You're not about to give me the shovel talk, are you?" Happy asked, a little suspiciously.

"God, no... after all the times I messed things up between me and Pepper, I'm the last person with any right to give anyone the shovel talk over her. Just, I can see how the two of you smile every time you look at each other, and... and I'm glad. I want Pepper to be happy, and I can see she is with you. And I know you well enough to be pretty sure that, unlike me, you'll do your best to keep her happy. You're good at all the things I suck at, like remembering special dates, and likes and dislikes, and allergies, all that sort of stuff. I'm honestly glad for both of you."

Happy smiled, flushing a little. "Thanks. She means the world to me, Tony. I'm glad you're fine with us being together, I'd hate if this ever came between us."

"It won't," Tony promised. "I'm friends with both of you still, and if anything I'm kind of tickled pink that two of my favourite people are right for each other."

Happy grinned. "Tickled pink?"

Tony shrugged, smiling. "I may have been hanging around a lot lately with people who actually use phrases like that."

Happy laughed. "They being a good influence on you?"

"Sometimes. And sometimes I'm a bad influence on them. Somehow it all works out."

Happy nodded, and sipped his wine, then glanced the way the two women had gone. "I like this Darcy person. She seems real nice. Little young though, isn't she?"

Tony quickly held up his hands. "Whoa, don't worry – Darcy and I are friends only. Among other things she's best buds with Thor and he would break anyone who ever hurt her in any way. Though I do like her; she gets my humour. And over ninety percent of my references, which is pretty amazing for her age."

Happy nodded. Pepper and Darcy returned just then, so they turned back to safer conversational topics while they enjoyed dessert and coffee before finally leaving.

"That was an awesome dinner, Tony... any time you need a date again, feel free to ask, okay?" Darcy said as their car pulled away from the restaurant.

Tony nodded. "It was pretty nice, wasn't it? I'll put you at the top of my go-to list for unexpected dates, how's that sound?"

Darcy smiled. "Sounds really excellent."

Tony's driver dropped him off at the tower before taking Darcy home. Tony lifted a hand in farewell as the car pulled away, then headed up to his level and bed, feeling really happy with how well the day had gone, overall.


	15. Relationships

Tony was mildly surprised to see that Loki was still the same black borzoi the next day; apart from that first warg form he'd taken, he'd normally only held any single form for one, perhaps two days, which Tony and Bruce theorized was because of his need for sleep; he hadn't yet returned to a previous form when waking, though they didn't know if that was because of choice or because he _couldn't_.

Natasha volunteered to take Loki for another walk, and after giving Loki permission to follow her, Tony himself had to head downstairs, to Pepper's office, to finish signing more of the numerous documents she'd brought that needed his attention, some of which she insisted on explaining to him before allowing him to sign. He always hated that, even though he knew she was doing it in his own best interests. He trusted her and would have happily signed without the long boring explanations; but that meant also trusting that if she insisted he know the ramifications of signing a particular document, she had a good reason behind it.

He was relieved when she tucked the latest set of signed documents away in a folder, put them to one side and smiled warmly at him. "I think we're about due a break," she said, and rose to her feet. "Coffee?"

"Irish?" he asked hopefully.

Pepper gave him an amused look and a slight shake of her head. "No. Though if you ask nicely I might let you have it with a little flavoured syrup added."

"Ooo, fancy! What flavours do you have on offer?" he asked as he settled back in the chair, watching as she stepped over to the sideboard where her personal coffee maker was set up.

She opened a cabinet hung on the wall above it, and looked over a row of small glass bottles there. "Hazelnut, almond, caramel, vanilla, mint, orange..."

"Orange, please," he said, and watched as she prepared two cups, adding orange syrup to his but taking her own plain. He smiled when she handed it to him. "Don't you have people to do this for you?" he asked curiously, before taking a sip and making an approving noise.

"You mean like you did? As in me, specifically? Unless I'm really busy, I prefer to have my own PA do more useful things than fetch coffee for me," she told him dryly.

"Ouch! Is that your way of saying I was wasting your time or skills all those years you were my PA?"

Pepper's lips crooked a little as she leaned forward, setting her own mug down on the coffee table between them. "Occasionally, maybe," she said. "Though I was fine with most of it, really."

"Bringing me coffee?"

"Menial, but tolerable."

"Arranging my parties?"

"Usually fun."

"Dealing with my morning after's?"

Pepper's mouth thinned for a moment and her eyebrows twitched up and then levelled out again. She said nothing.

"I'll take that as a no," Tony said. "Okay, yeah, I guess that was kind of a tacky job to stick you with," he agreed, and then took another sip of his coffee and found himself smiling at her. "Best PA I ever had. Only one that lasted more than two months. And now you run my company for me. Best hiring decision I ever made."

Pepper smiled, and picked up her own mug again. "Best job I've ever had, even if you have made it an adventure, at times."

"I think you meant to say a nightmare."

"Maybe. Some times. Just a little. Though mostly it wasn't you that was making it that way, just..." She made a gesture, partly a shrug, her hands moving apart as if releasing something.

"...just everyone that was out to kill me. Stane, Hammer, Loki, Killian, assorted extras." Tony said.

Pepper smiled again. "A cast of thousands."

"With an epic musical dance routine in the skies of New York. No show girls, oddly enough."

That drew a snort of Pepper. "Oh, please."

"Okay, yes, there were show girls, but not in New York. After we broke up again, yes. Not before."

"The Starkettes?" Pepper said, one eyebrow arching high.

"They don't count, I wasn't sleeping with them. And anyway they were in New Jersey, not New York."

Pepper laughed, then put down her mug again, this time to push a fresh stack of paperwork his way. "More signatures," she said firmly.

Tony groaned. "All right, but only because I like you. And you bribed me with delicious coffee. I could use another cup of it, by the way."

She laughed again, and went to prepare a second cup for him. He looked up for a moment, watching her walk the few steps away, and smiled as he turned back to the stack of papers.

* * *

Happy and Pepper went off to do a private lunch followed by some sightseeing and shopping that afternoon, then rejoined the Avengers at the tower for a couple hours of socializing that evening before heading to the airport to fly back to the west coast. Tony had never understood Pepper's preference for red-eye flights, though he supposed that on his company jets, which usually had a full bedroom tucked in somewhere on board in addition to the fully-reclining seats, it was likely more comfortable to tuck in and sleep the flight away than sit through a five to six hour daytime flight.

Tony saw the two of them to the airport, despite Pepper's protests that it wasn't needed. "I don't see enough of you two any more," he told them. "You better make it out here more often, or I might find myself with the irresistible urge to do something that means you _have_ to come back east for a day or two."

"You do that, and I'll send someone who _isn't_ me to deal with it," Pepper said warningly. "You could always come visit us, you know."

"Can't. Avenger's stuff is keeping me pretty glued down here at the moment."

"Loki?"

"Actually no, he's pretty portable, at least by the way Thor described the set-up to us. Though yes I would prefer to stay where I have the full team to deal with things if he does somehow break free. But it's stuff other than Loki that I mean, most of which falls in the field of I-can't-tell-you or Fury will bring the weight of his full displeasure down on me."

"You ignore Fury's displeasure all the time, Tony," Pepper pointed out.

"Yeah, but some of this is stuff that would paint a great big target on you if you knew it, so... in this case, I'll go along with him."

That got him a sharp look from both Pepper and Happy; they'd both seen before what sort of things happened to people who'd drawn the attention of Stark's enemies. Neither of them wanted that kind of attention again.

"All right," Pepper finally agreed, reluctantly. "But you better clear a spot in your schedule for next spring."

"Oh? What for?"

"A wedding," Happy said, and Pepper grinned, holding up her hand to display an engagement ring that certainly hadn't been on her hand yesterday or that morning. Happy turned almost red, smiling happily. "Asked her this afternoon, while we were out."

Tony whooped, and moved from his seat to hug them both in turn. "That's great! Okay, _yes_, I will clear room on my busy schedule to be in Malibu for a week or two next spring. Just let me know which week or two I need to actually be there, all right? I promise I'll be there, as long as the aliens aren't invading again at the time."

The remainder of the trip to the airport was filled with Happy describing where and how he'd proposed – a gymnasium on the east side where he'd started out his boxing career many years before. Not the most romantic of locations, but Tony knew it was the place where Happy had had the handful of wins that had started off his career, a string that he'd never been able to match after he went pro – loses being more of his thing, unfortunately – and which had therefor made him consider that gym as his lucky location.

Tony stayed with them through as much as the airport as he could, only finally exchanging good-bye hugs before they went into the screening area. He stayed there, until they'd disappeared out of sight down the hallway beyond it, before returning home to the Tower.

* * *

Loki is tired, after almost three full days in this form, but is not yet ready to sleep. The common rooms are darkened, only a few scattered lights and an occasional LED providing faint illumination. He wanders around the area he is allowed in, feeling restless, even though Natasha took him for a walk earlier in the days and Rogers took him to Central Park that evening and let him run around in one of the off-leash areas.

He has drunken most of the water left in his bowl in the kitchen and is wandering around the common room, sniffing around to see what his sensitive nose can tell him, when the elevator chimes and opens. Stark walks into the common area, dressed in a two-piece business suit but with his tie stuffed in his pocket and his shirt unbuttoned halfway down, the blue glow of the machine embedded in his chest visible. He smells of cars and crowds, and the two people that had been visiting since the morning before.

Loki sits down where he is, not quite in Stark's path, and is faintly surprised when Stark pauses to smooth one hand over his head before continuing on to the bar. He gathers together a double handful of tumblers, and carries them over to the coffee table, setting them down in a row, four of them, then returns to the bar and fetches a bottle. He pours out a measured amount into each glass, then carries the bottle back over to the bar, and starts to put it away, before visibly changing his mind. Stark pours out a fifth glass, twice as much as the other drinks, then finally returns the bottle to its shelf.

He walks back over, sipping at his drink, and sets it down, then strips off his jacket and tosses it to drape over the back of one of the armchairs before dropping down to sit at one end of the couch, his drinks arranged in front of him. Loki waits a moment, then rises and walks over, sniffing in passing at one glass – it smells overly sharp and foul to his doggish senses – before sitting down beside the couch, resting his head on the arm. Stark snorts softly, but pets him anyway before he leans forward to pick up the overly-full glass again. He resumes running his hand over Loki's head once he sits back again, glass in hand.

There is silence for a while, except for the soft noises of Stark sipping at his drink, setting down that glass once it is empty and picking up another.

"I kind of love her still," Stark says after a while, staring at the liquid remaining in his tumbler. "Though it didn't work out for us as a couple. People like you were kind of to blame for some of that. Okay, for a lot of that, when it wasn't me fucking it up all by myself. Though you personally actually rank relatively low of the list of people-who've-fucked-up-my-relationships. You and your invasion didn't help much, but we were actually at a good place in our relationship through most of that."

He falls silent again, just sitting there and drinking slowly but steadily. He has stopped petting Loki. Loki rises after a while, walking around to the other side of the couch, and jumps up onto it, turning a couple of circles before lying down, stretching out to take up most of the couch, with his head resting on Stark's thigh. Stark laughs, softly, and resumes petting him.

"God, you are _such_ a suck-up as a dog, you know that? You want all the attention, don't you?" His voice sounds amused. Loki considers taking offence at his phrasing, but Stark's fingers are buried in the thick fur back of his ear and scratching in just exactly the right way at the moment, and he decides to ignore it for now, other than to snap his teeth. Stark laughs again.

There is another long silence, during which Stark methodically works his way through his drinks, eventually slumping down a little in his seat, relaxed and likely more than a little drunken by now. His hand has not stopped petting and scratching, and Loki feels very relaxed. He shifts to a slightly more comfortable position, his eyes slowly closing in enjoyment.

* * *

Tony fingers were still rubbing little circles in the long black hair of the head in his lap when the change of shape and weight and texture, and the faint snoring, penetrated his tipsiness enough for him to realize that he's rubbing Loki's head now; not Loki the borzoi, but Loki the naked Asgardian magician. He froze for a moment, on the verge of screaming and jumping to his feet, but the cushioning effect of the alcohol he'd consumed made the situation seem more amusing and a lot less disturbing than it might otherwise have been.

He'd already seen Loki nude before, he reminded himself, both when the binding was cast between them and the first time Loki had slept in the common room afterwards. He'd also seen him nude and asleep on Jarvis' video surveillance few times since as well, though Jarvis always thoughtfully added a little censor blur to the images to both preserve Loki's modesty, such as it was, and prevent Tony and Bruce having any need for brain bleach.

Not that much bleach would actually be needed, Tony couldn't help but think as he tried to keep his eyes averted from the body sprawled out on display over much of the couch. Say what you will about Loki, he's a handsome man. Granted he's also an insane, power-hungry ass-hole, he's good-looking, if you like them long and lean. Which, Tony knows, he rather does. Though mostly he prefers the type with rather more curves and opposing rather than matching genitalia, but he'd be lying if he ever tried to claim he hadn't taken a walk or two on the wild side in the past. And enjoyed it. Maybe not enough to switch teams in any big way, but enough to at least allow the possibility of it on his mental menu.

He realized he was now past the point where it made any sense to jump and run. The only question remaining was, should he try and ease out of the situation and retreat to his quarters, or remain where he was. He shifted position slightly, then abruptly decided to remain. Because he still had another drink to go, he told himself. Nothing at all to do with the realization that it's been three days since Loki last slept, and that trying to extricate himself might wake the sleeping man.

He'd have to think up some additional explanation for why he remained there once the last drink was finished, eventually falling to sleep with Loki's head still resting in his lap, his fingers wound into the god's long black hair. If anyone asked, anyway.


	16. Cheeseball Comedies

Loki wakes to two realizations; the first is that he slept without first considering a form the night before, and has woken to something random – and small – today. The second is that he and Stark are both still on the couch in the common room, and that he is curled up against Stark's belly, the man lying slumped over on one side with his legs trailing off of the couch onto the floor.

He recoils, and yelps as he rolls off the edge onto the floor. Some kind of dog again, he realizes. Stark makes a muttering sound, as if waking, and Loki quickly scampers away, down the hallway to his own room, claws tick-tacking against the floor.

It is still dark out, not full night yet still dark enough for the windows of his room to act like a mirror. He walks close and sees that he is a small dog, with a thick, fluffy black coat, a compact body, and a fox-like face with upright ears. He is pleased; the result of a random transformation could have been worse. He wonders if his enjoyment of the previous form acted as an influence, in lieu of him making any more conscious effort to select a shape to change to. It is at least possible, especially when the only truly major change between this form and the previous one is scale, everything else being minor cosmetic differences.

Loki notes that he is feeling rather more full of energy today than he was in the larger shape; nervous energy, energy that wants to be used. He turns his head, catches sight of one of the scattered toys in the room, and without further thought finds himself bounding across the room to leap on it and fiercely attack it, growling and shaking it in his jaws, trying to pin it down with his forepaws so he can more easily tear at it. He gives himself up to the animal instincts for a while, revelling in the nimbleness and speed of this body, only stopping once it tires out. He walks over to and flops down belly-first on his mattress, and chews on the corner of his good blanket – replacement for the shredded one – for a while, enjoying the texture of it scrunching in his teeth. It is light outside now, the city waking, the background hum of its traffic and inhabitants audible even this high up.

He thinks of putting on music, or reading for a while, then abruptly sits up, nose twitching. Someone is cooking sausages, he can smell the rich fatty odour of them. He races out of his room and down the hallway, almost colliding with Rogers as he darts into the common room. Rogers gives a startled yell as Loki scrabbles at the floor and narrowly misses running into his legs, and after that it's a clear run into the kitchen, where Natasha and Clint are seated at the breakfast bar, watching as Stark stands at the stove, still wearing his dress pants and shirt from the night before, and waving a spatula around while he cooks.

Loki's scrambling entrance has attracted attention, but he doesn't care. He comes to a stop beside Stark, and then hops up on his hind legs, forepaws waving, and barks, demanding sausages. Clint starts laughing, even Natasha makes a weird little snorting sound, while Stark gives him a startled stare before beginning to laugh as well. The laughter makes him want to _bite_, but then Stark scoops up a sausage and steps over to drop it into Loki's feeding bowl. Loki dances around his feet all the way over, eyes glued on the sausage, and gnaws and licks at it despite it being a little too hot to eat comfortably.

"Well, _someone_ appreciates my cooking," Stark says, sounding pleased.

"What the hell kind of dog is that, anyway?" Barton asks, peering over the edge of the counter at him. Loki growls warningly at him, then goes back to chewing on his sausage.

"I think I've seen that breed before," Natasha says thoughtfully. "In northern Europe somewhere..."

"Huh... so have I," Rogers says, leaning in the doorway and looking thoughtfully down at Loki. "During the war."

"Jarvis? Any ideas?" Stark asks.

"_The appearance seems to match that of a Schipperke, sir. The breed originated in Belgium, and were used to carry messages by the Belgian Resistance during World War 2._"

Rogers grinned. "That was it! I saw one of these little guys bringing in a message once," he says happily, and crouches down, reaching out as if to pet Loki. Loki quickly shifts his hindquarters away and snarls, showing teeth warningly.

"Careful there Cap, it looks like he's territorial about his food," Stark says.

"So I see," Rogers says, withdrawing his hand and straightening back up, then frowns at the stove. "Your heat is up too high and you're going to be burning those in a minute if you don't turn them and turn the stove down," he adds, nodding to the pans that Stark has abandoned.

Stark makes a noise rather like a yelp himself, and hurries back to the stove to tend to his cooking. "Oops. Good catch. I better get the eggs going too or all we'll be having is sausages."

"Correction, I'll get the eggs going, you keep an eye on those sausages so they don't burn," Rogers says firmly, and steps past Tony, heading to the fridge and taking out a carton of eggs.

"All right, if you insist," Stark says. "But I want it to go on record that I was willing to make breakfast myself and you wouldn't let me."

"I think all of us are fine with that," Clint spoke up. "I like my breakfasts edible."

"Says the man who thinks things like Cocoa Puffs and Lucky Charms are real breakfast foods," Stark said as he busied himself with turning the sausages, a process made more difficult by them having begun to stick to the bottom of the pan. Loki, his sausage already finished, stretches out on the floor and watches, feeling confident that there will be another sausage or two for him soon.

"Oh come off it, Stark, I know that Thor isn't the only Avenger with a toaster pastry fetish; I've seen the contents of your snack cupboard down in your lab. And the one in your workshop. And the stash in the garage."

"Hey! It's not my fault that things like Pop Tarts, breakfast bars, and Twinkies are the perfect long-shelf-life foods to keep around for sudden attacks of the munchies!"

"Twinkies? Where are you getting Twinkies from? I thought they didn't make those any more?" Banner asks as he wanders into the kitchen to join them.

"They started making them again a couple of months ago. Though before that I was having to import them from Canada for a while."

"I think admitting you imported Twinkies means you have no right to question Clint's preferences in sugary foods," Natasha says dryly.

Loki whines as he sees Stark begin transferring the sausages to a platter, and is pleased when another sausage finds it way into his bowl.

* * *

Tony peered over Bruce's shoulder at the monitor showing Loki's room. "What's he up to now?"

"Disemboweling another stuffed toy. Third one this morning. We're going to need to buy him some new toys soon at this rate."

"Destructive little fucker, isn't he? But then we kind of knew that already," Tony replied.

Bruce smiled slowly. "Yes, yes he is. How are the sensors coming?"

"Last units are coming out of production within the hour. I should be able to get them all installed this afternoon, after which we just hope and pray."

"I thought you weren't a religious man?"

"Totally irreligious, yup. I plan to subcontract the actual praying to Steve. He's so wholesome, even if he turns out to be a closet agnostic I'm sure any divine force that happens to exist would listen to his prayers anyway."

Bruce grinned and shook his head. "I have a feeling that he wouldn't agree to that suggestion. Or that interpretation."

"Yeah, I suspect you're right. Unfortunately he's the only person I know of offhand who is of the believing sort. Or do you know something about one of our teammates that I don't?"

"Unlikely. I'm sure you and Jarvis know them much better than I do."

"Ooo, was that a zinger? Are you zinging me, Banner?"

Bruce smiled again. "Might be. Just remember not to ever use the power of Jarvis for evil."

"_Do not worry, Dr Banner, I have protocols to prevent such an occurrence._"

"Yeah, but Tony can overwrite those if he really wants to, right?"

"_I have protocols for that as well, Dr Banner._"

Bruce gave a snort of laughter, and then gave Tony a thoughtful look. "Really?"

"Yup, really. Part of a safety net I put in, just in case of me making decisions like drunk-editing of Jarvis' protocols, or someone other than myself gaining editing access to them; there's a hidden mini version of Jarvis, very highly specialized, that evaluates any proposed protocol changes. It can veto them if it believes the changes are potentially harmful. In a pinch if I or someone else somehow implements a change in spite of its veto, it can even freeze out Jarvis' current protocol set and swap in a well-tested older set of protocols, and then lock out any additional editing attempts until I enter a reset code at one of several fixed geographical locations."

"So you're saying Jarvis has a mini-me?"

Tony laughed. "Yeah, I call it Jar-head. It's not as smart or flexible as Jarvis is, it's more on the lines of an artificial stupid than an artificial intelligence, but the one job it has, it does _really_ well."

"How can you be sure it does it well? Have you tested it?"

"See earlier statement about drunk-editing of Jarvis."

"Oh."

"Yeah. Thankfully I get bright ideas like that a lot less frequently now that I've cut back on consumption."

Bruce laughed, then patted Tony's shoulder as he rose to his feet. "Time for lunch for me; you want anything?"

"Nah, I'm good. I've got some leftover pizza in the fridge, assuming Clint didn't sneak in and eat it all."

"All right, see you later then."

Tony raised a hand in farewell as he scooted over to the fridge, where he found that Clint had indeed eaten the remaining pizza, but he'd acquired a beef shawarma that hadn't been there the day before. Not one to look a gift shawarma in the mouth, he happily ate it while waiting for the production of the sensor array to finish.

* * *

Steve glanced up as Natasha and Clint walked into the entertainment room, take-out bags in hand. "What are we having tonight?" he asked.

"Thai food," Clint said, smiling happily. "From that place Bruce likes."

"Sweet," Tony said as he walked into the room behind them. "Did you get their green mango salad? I _love_ that salad."

"We all love that salad, Tony," Natasha pointed out.

Clint hefted up one of the bags he was carrying, double-bagged and packed to the top with containers. "All of this is green mango salad," he said, sounding pleased with himself. "That look like enough, Stark?"

"Yeah, it should suffice, at least since Thor isn't here tonight," Tony agreed. "What are we watching?"

"More 80's cheeseball sci-fi comedies," Clint said. "Spaceballs, to be exact, also Howard the Duck and Night of the Comet."

"Ooo, _excellent_," Tony exclaimed, and hopped over the back of the couch to settle in beside Steve while Natasha and Clint set out the take-out containers on the coffee table, alongside the piles of plates and cutlery that were already waiting. "Dibs on getting to sit beside Cap."

Steve smiled, then elbowed Tony gently. "Shift over then," he said.

"Why?" Tony asked, even as he slid to the far right end of the couch so that Steve could move to the middle.

"Because I already had dibs on sitting next to Steve," Natasha said, and smiled as she sat down to Steve's left. Steve smiled warmly at her, then leaned forward to serve himself a plate full of food

"Oh, I see how it is," Tony said, and pouted. "You've fallen for the dangerous redhead and forgotten all about me."

Steve grinned, but didn't otherwise respond, though once Natasha had filled her plate as well she leaned against his shoulder in a very friendly manner.

"What are we watching?" Bruce asked as he wandered in, then drew in a deep breath. "Thai?"

"Spaceballs, and yes," Tony said.

"Awesome," Bruce said, getting himself a plate full as well.

Once they all had food and seats – Clint sitting cross-legged on the floor at Natasha's feet, Bruce claiming the beaten-up plaid laz-e-boy recliner that had been bought for the room as a joke but which he'd fallen in love with – Jarvis started the first movie rolling. The opening scenes had only gotten as far as the "We Brake For Nobody" bumper-sticker on the back of the spaceship when an unexpected whining sound began behind them, a whine that quickly began breaking into barking. They all turned and looked at Loki, who was standing just outside the doorway of the entertainment room, peering in and making abortive little moves as if he was about to bounce towards them.

"Oh, hell... okay, fine, you can come into the entertainment room too," Tony said.

Loki yipped and charged forward, leaping up and over the back of the couch and squirming down into the space between Steve and Tony, looking interestedly back and forth between their plates. Tony moved his to the side, curling one arm protectively around it.

Natasha leaned forward, giving him a look around Steve. "Feed Loki, Tony – he's your responsibility."

Tony sighed. "Oh, fine," he agreed. "Though if the spices disagree with him you get to clean up the mess."

"They won't," she said, unperturbed, and sat back again.


	17. A Very Long Walk

Loki knows he should not be allowing himself to feel this pleased over being included in the Avengers' movie watching group for the night, but he is honest enough with himself to know how difficult it would be to suppress his pleasure at the feeling of acceptance it is giving him. He will allow himself to enjoy it this one night, he tells himself; if they allow him back on future nights it will be easier to ignore then, when it is not such a strong new feeling.

Stark makes a show of how unhappy he is feeding some of his own food to Loki, but when he refills his plate, he makes sure to take several of the dish that Loki found most acceptable of the offerings, skewered chunks of pale meat – some variety of bird, likely chicken by the blandness of it – with a slightly granular spicy sauce that they can be dipped into. Rogers slips him little strips of beef when Stark is not looking, coated in a tangy dark sauce speckled with pale seeds. He likes the foods they eat on Midgard, a far wider variety than is generally available at the feasts of Asgard.

By the time the first confusing movie ends, they have all eaten to satiation, and the group takes a short break to see that the leftovers are packaged away and placed in the fridge, drinks fetched for all, washroom breaks taken, before assembling again and beginning the second movie. Loki finds this second movie easier to follow, the plot of the story making rather more logical sense even if the story being told is almost equally as nonsensical in nature as the first.

He forgets himself enough to get caught up in the story, and finds himself standing up and barking excitedly at the screen when the Dark Overlord kidnaps Beverly,

"Easy," Rogers says, and much to his chagrin scoops Loki up easily, setting him down in his lap and petting him. For a moment Loki is torn between wanting to bite and snap at being so easily manhandled, and the pleasure of being petted. His animal form wants the petting, and goes limp and quiet, but he makes himself growl warningly every time Rogers' hand runs down him back, to make sure his displeasure is clear. Quietly, so as not to miss the dialogue.

He cannot decide whether or not Howard made the right decision at the end, when confronted with the choice of saving earth from the alien invasion and being trapped there himself, or returning safely to his own home. It reminds him too uncomfortably of the choices he himself has made in the last couple of years. It makes him feel out of sorts and angry, and after taking his own bathroom break and drinking the last of the water in his bowl he slinks into the plant-filled corner of the common room, hiding away and thinking while the Avengers make popcorn and get refills for their drinks. He hears them settling back down to watch the third movie, but remains where he is, certain they will not miss his unwanted company.

"Where's Loki?" he hears Stark ask.

"I don't know, last I saw he was getting some water," Banner answers.

"Loki! We're about to start the next movie!" Stark calls out, loudly. "Get your ass back over here if you want to see it!"

He will blame the location-specific component of the spell if anyone ever asks why he races out of the corner so quickly and back into the room, taking his spot between Steve and Tony again.

* * *

Tony leaned back comfortably on the couch, watching as Loki made a his way around the room, sticking his nose in abandoned bowls in search of any leftover popcorn. He wondered, not for the first time, how much of Loki's behaviour in animal form is Loki, and how much is the normal reactions of the animal itself. The way Loki had reacted the couple of times when someone picked him up and petted him to quiet him – Steve during the chase scene in Howard the Duck, and pretty much everyone except Bruce at some point during Night of the Comet – leads him to think that it's likely some mix of the two that determines Loki's reactions.

As a test, he tried snapping his fingers and whistling. Loki reacted much as any dog would at first – turning and looking attentively at him – but when he patted the seat beside him Loki made no move to come closer. Not until he unthinkingly called "Here boy!"

Loki raced over and jumped up, stopped in the indicated spot, but as soon as Tony started to reach out toward him, the little dog stiffened and showed its teeth, fur fluffing out and growling menacingly. Tony froze for a moment, then his thoughts caught up with the words coming out of his mouth and he realized what he'd done; given Loki a definite location-based order.

"Oh, hey, sorry, I didn't mean to do that," Tony apologized. Then sighed. "Okay, your authorized area is the common room, kitchen, entertainment room, hallway, hallway bathroom, and your room. Feel free to go wherever in your authorized area that you want to."

He expected Loki to leave in a huff as soon as the words left his mouth, but instead Loki remained where he was, studying Tony intently, his fur and rump both settling back down. Tony studied him back with equal curiosity.

"I guess we confuse you at times," Tony said after a while. Loki snorted in response. "Was that a yes, or a no?"

Loki went still again, then abruptly rose to his feet and jumped down off the couch, walking away.

"Still not in a mood to talk, are you," Tony observed, then craned his head over the back of the couch, watching Loki pass through the common room on the way to, presumably, his own room. "If you ever change your mind about that, I'm willing to listen."

* * *

As enjoyable in some ways as being the small dog is, Loki decides he does not want to remain it for a second day; the Avengers take too many liberties with him as a smaller animal. Yet he likes the way they let their guard down around him as a dog. So... a bigger dog, he thinks as he curls up to sleep. Something they are more likely to remain cautious of, to handle carefully rather than thoughtlessly.

When he wakes he can feel the change already, the difference in size, in energy, in abilities. It is already day out, so he cannot see his reflection clearly in the windows, but there is a mirror over the sink in his bathroom, and he is large enough to be able to rest his forepaws on the edge of the counter and look. He has a short-furred coat, with a black face and erect black ears, the black fading down his neck to a warm red-gold everywhere else, creamier in colour on the underbelly. Not as big as the first dog he was, but considerably larger than the little black one was.

Someone – Clint – whistles appreciatively as he enters the kitchen, and he grins back at the archer, allowing his tail a single slow wag in return.

"German shepherd?" Tony asks, looking him over thoughtfully, a mug of coffee in hand.

"Wrong coat colouration," Bruce speaks up, from where he is busy filling bowls with something that smells of toasted grains, dried fruit and berries, nuts, and a sweet oiliness.

"Jarvis?" Tony asks.

"_Another Belgian dog, sir – a Malinois._"

"Interesting," Bruce says, looking at Loki with increased attention. It makes Loki feel uneasy, and he keeps a careful eye on Bruce as he places the bowls of cereal on the breakfast bar, along with pitchers of milk, juice, bowls of chopped fresh fruits and berries, and a large glass bowl full of something that smells like sour milk. Yogurt, Loki decides, and starts salivating, remembering the pleasant sharp tang of it, one of those simple foods that is found almost everywhere that lactating creatures can be found.

"We're almost out of granola," Bruce says as he takes a seat at one end of the long counter and pours yogurt over his cereal, then tops it with berries.

"_I've added the usual ingredients to the list, sir,_" Jarvis says.

"You know, we can buy pre-made granola," Tony points out as he takes a seat as well, ignoring the yogurt and adding a large heap of fruit to his bowl before drowning it in milk.

"I like making granola from scratch, it tastes better."

"It does," Clint agrees, takes his bowl of dry granola and leaves the kitchen, carrying it off to the entertainment room.

"Cartoons again?" Tony asks.

"Rocket Robin Hood marathon," Natasha responds, and heads off after Clint, taking her bowl – doctored with yogurt and sliced fruit – and a spoon along.

"Is that something I should be watching?" Steve asks.

"Depends. It's a pretty silly series," Tony says.

"And the movies we were watching last night weren't?"

"Point," Tony says. He and Bruce exchange looks, then grin and stand up and shepherd Steve away.

Somehow they end up all settled in the entertainment room again, the coffee table hidden under empty popcorn bowls and all of the things Bruce had put out on the breakfast bar, as well as a carafe of coffee a large pot of tea, and all of the condiments the Avengers like with those. Loki has a large bowl full of seared cubes of beef and mutton, and a smaller one of yogurt that it had taken him some work to convince the others that he wanted. The short shows they are watching are even more ridiculous than the movies the night before, and soon lose this interest.

After breakfast is eaten it is Bruce who volunteers to take him for a walk, rather to his surprise, leaving the rest free to continue watching the cartoons. They don't go north to the big park that he has become used to, but take a very long walk through the city to a string of smaller parks along the south-eastern waterfront. Bruce walks at a slow but steady stroll, not the fast pace or outright jog that Loki has already become used to with Natasha and Steve. Bruce doesn't talk to him like Steve does, doesn't stop and read for a while like Natasha usually does, but he does stop eventually and just leans on a railing, watching the water, silent.

It is a restful silence, and Loki stretches out by his feet after a while, nose stuck through the railing and watching the water as well.

There is a bridge spanning the river to the south of them. Loki watches it with interest, seeing the sunlight flashing off of vehicles crossing it, seeing movement higher on the bridge also, too small to be vehicles, some of it too fast to be people on foot. Bicycles, perhaps, the fast two-wheeled vehicles he has seen in use here.

"Want to cross the bridge?" Bruce asks, softly.

Loki sits up, and whines softly, curious to see it.

Bruce laughs, and they walk again,to the south, passing under the bridge before going back inland, taking a walkway over a busy multi-lane street and then even further west, until they finally reach a place where they can pass under a decorative archway and walk along a path that lifts slowly up to the heights and across the river. It is a wide path, with places for people to walk and places for people to ride their bicycles. Down below them is a level filled with the noisy stinking cars and trucks that these humans seem so attached to, as well as a pair of tracks meant to carry some other mode of transport, but currently empty.

He sticks close to Bruce, watching the people and the bicycles warily. It is a long way across. They stop for a few minutes in the middle of the span, Bruce leaning against the screened-in walls that surround the pathway, Loki sitting at his feet, looking at the wide river so far below. After a while he can smell that the confined space, the walls and roof made of beams and screens, is making Bruce increasingly uneasy. It is easy to imagine why, knowing that Banner's beast has been trapped and caged in the past, picturing what destruction his beast could cause to others caught in such a space with it. He noses and licks at Bruce's hand to distract him and regain his attention, then begins to walk again, pulling on his leash now. Bruce makes a sound, a strangled laughing noise, but follows him, both of them tense and walking fast now, aware of how close to the surface the beast lies.

It is a relief when they finally exit the walkway at the eastern side of the river. Loki leads them north, still pulling on the leash, sniffing for some place they can rest, some place green. The first such place they come near, west of their path, is filled with children. He can smell Bruce's unease, and pulls him further east, and then north again, finally finding a little green space, just a few trees and low beds of plants tucked in between buildings, surrounded by a metal fence; upright bars, that would seem cage-like if not for the open sky overhead, the trees and plants surrounding them. There are no benches here, there are barely even paths, but Loki leads the way into the middle of it and sits down, and Bruce crouches beside him on one knee, hands digging into the fur of Loki's ruff and eyes shut, breath slowly evening out again, the beast retreating. Loki exhales, and rests his chin on the man's shoulder, feeling a mix of very confused and oddly relieved.

Bruce takes a phone out of his pocket after a while, and presses a button, listens to it. "Tony? Yeah, I know we've been gone a while. I think you better send a car for us. No, we're both fine. Somewhere in Brooklyn, near the bridge... yeah. Yeah, thanks."

They wait, Bruce sitting cross-legged on the ground now, Loki stretched out beside him with his chin resting on Bruce's knee, eyes half-shutting as Bruce smooths one hand over his ears and down the curve of his neck again and again.

When a car arrives it is something low-slung and quiet, with sleek lines, an open roof, and Tony sitting at the wheel. He grins at the two of them as they rise and walk forward. "When you go for a walk you really go for a walk," he says.

Bruce shrugs, and opens the door of the vehicle, gesturing for Loki to move into the space in back of the two seats before sitting down himself. "Yeah, well, a few miles of New York is nothing, compared to some of the walks I've made. Easiest way to avoid making a blip on the official radar; walk, don't ride."

Tony snorts, then they pull away from the curb and go. They cross back over the bridge a few minutes later, down among the other cars now, the cage of the walkway overhead somewhere. Loki keeps his head pointing forward between the two seats, looking around interestedly as they drive; it is not something he has done much of before, this travelling in vehicles, even on his previous visit to Midgard. And most of those few vehicles were enclosed, hiding him away, not open to the sky like this. He enjoys it, until they finally drive down a tunnel, into an underground garage, where they leave the vehicle behind and ride the elevator back up to the quarters he has become so used to already.

He is let off in the common room; Tony and Bruce go off together, taking the elevator back down to Tony's lab. It disappoints him to be left behind, but Clint is lounging on the couch, singing softly along with music that Jarvis is playing for him, and when he sees Loki he jumps up and insists that it is time to give him a good combing, which Loki allows.

* * *

"So what happened?" Tony asked as he dropped into his stool by the workbench.

Bruce smiled crookedly, shrugged, dropped down to sit on the couch in the corner, fingers loosely laced together. "I was fine until we were halfway across the bridge. The other guy has had some bad experiences with enclosed walkways, and that one is... particularly cage-like."

"Oh. Oh shit. Well, good thing you got yourself out of there."

Bruce smiled, a strange smile. "It wasn't me that got me out of there. It was Loki."

"Really!?"

"Yeah, really. I guess he could tell I was getting... a little freaked out. And given his last experience with the big guy, I suppose he wasn't any more enthused about the idea of being in a confined space with him as I would be about him coming out around there either. He got me moving again, which helped a little, and once we were off the bridge, dragged me all the way to that little park like he knew just where it was."

"Smelled it, maybe," Tony offered.

"Probably," Bruce agreed, then sighed and ran one hand through his hair, a little surprised that it wasn't shaking at all. "Petting animals is supposed to be very relaxing. I think I'd have to agree with that. Even if the animal is a shape-changed magic user from another world."

Tony smiled. "I think at this point all of us have experienced the weirdness that is petting Loki. The growling-while-being-petted thing he was doing last night, it has me thinking about what Thor said when he left him here."

"About being in animal form for too long being damaging to Loki?"

"Exactly. The way he acts seems to be a mix of how that animal would react to things, and how Loki himself might react to things. What if the reason he needs to change back to human at intervals is because the animal mind influences his, for want of an easier word, human mind?"

"Hmmm," Bruce said, and crossed his arms, leaning back, eyes unfocused. Tony sat silent, waiting it out, well-used to Bruce's ways, even managing not to fidget too badly while Bruce thought things over.

"All right," Bruce finally said. "Based on observation of his interactions with us since he arrived, I think you might be right. In that case, we might be able to do things that... well, that make him easier to get along with, at least for the remainder of the duration of his stay here, however long that turns out to be."

"Like, a happy Loki might be less inclined to use his urges towards mischief for evil?"

"More or less, yes. Despite the growling last night, he clearly enjoyed being petted, even to the point of seeming to be comfortable with using it to help me calm down today. When he was in horse shapes, Clint groomed him, and he allowed that and seemed to enjoy it as well, based on his body language. Also, when he changed shape again afterwards, he changed to a shape that is _more_ likely to be touched by humans, which might be coincidence but could be related to a subconscious desire for contact. Being a dog got him the rewards of being taken out of the tower for walks, which he also seems to enjoy, plus a lot more handling. If he was, well, touch-starved before being brought here, which is likely if he's been jailed on his own all the time since Thor brought him back to Asgard for punishment... then that could be a surprisingly powerful motivator for him."

"Yeah," Tony agreed thoughtfully, doing his own version of the sitting and thinking silently for a few minutes before speaking again. "Remember what he wanted when he first came here? Not the taking over the world part, but the other bits... adulation. Acknowledgement."

"From what little Thor has said about what led to his fall from Asgard in the first place, I think we can add acceptance, praise and fame to that list, though to a certain extent they're just variations on the others."

"Daddy issues," Tony said, and flushed slightly. "Even worse than mine, since he also has the whole sibling rivalry shtick going on at the same time. He's like me, only worse. Wants to be seen and acknowledged as competent, wants to stand out of his father and brother's shadows, wants to be accepted for himself, not because of who his father and brother are. Wants..." He had to stop and swallow, knowing just how close to himself and his own desires his description was. "Wants to be loved, to be praised, to be made much of. To have the freedom to do his own thing, without that being seen as shameful."

"Yeah," Bruce agreed, and smiled crookedly. "So what if we give him some of that? Positive reinforcement, appropriate to whatever his current form is, as long as he's good."

"No punishment though, if he's at all like me, which I'd have to say he kind of is, at least a little, then telling him no will just make him more stubborn and more likely to do something unexpected and dangerous."

Bruce grinned. "Yeah, that's definitely the way you react, isn't it?"

"Sometimes to good effect," Tony pointed out, nodding toward the partially disassembled Iron Man suit on a nearby work bench.

"True, but we want to try and aim for happy Loki, not pissed off and acting out Loki."

Tony grinned briefly. "Right. Okay, I suppose we should quietly bring the others on board with this idea, and try it out. It certainly can't hurt, and if it makes Loki a little less inclined to be a pain in the ass, then I'm all for it."

Bruce nodded, and Tony sent a message to the others, asking them all to drop by the lab for a few minutes.


	18. A Proliferation of Connections

Tony has declared that it is his turn to take Loki for a walk. The god has been a dog for just over a week now, having just changed to a fourth breed of dog, having spent the last two days as a border collie. Today he is a compact medium-sized dog with grey and black fur, a creamy belly, and a tightly curled tail that Natasha and Clint took one glance at and identified as a Norwegian Elkhound. They've obtained a variety of collars now, to allow for the size changes in the forms he's been staking, and Tony quickly picked out a silver-studded strip of black leather that's big enough for his current form.

"Let's go somewhere special," Tony said, and had the elevator go all the way down to his private parking garage. He quickly decided on the Tesla roadster for the trip; he'd been wanting to try it on a longer run for a while now. Loki rides shotgun, strapped to the seat-belt with a travel harness that Steve insisted on them buying after hearing about Loki's previous car trip.

They leave Manhattan by the Queensboro bridge, and head east on the Queens Midtown expressway, though as soon as they're past the worst of the urbanized areas Tony heads north, preferring the slower but arguably more scenic route along Northern Boulevard. He drives for over an hour, all the way out to Sunken Meadow State Park. Pets aren't allowed in the park proper, but there's a large area of forested trails where they're allowed on leash. As soon as they moved out of sight of any of the few people braving the cool day – it's partially overcast, and the leaves will be turning colour soon – Tony slipped the leash and told Loki he could run around a little, as long as he stayed within sight.

The cool weather makes a long walk pleasant, even with the hilly terrain the trails cover, though Tony purposefully avoids Cardiac Hill; he's in pretty good shape these days, but he'd rather take it easy than give himself an unnecessary workout. Loki was clearly enjoying the walk as well, venturing off the trail into the trees to investigate interesting smells, once chasing a rabbit for some little distance before stopping and trotting back to Tony's side. He mostly stays within leash length of Tony. By the time they return to the car he is panting a little, but doesn't seem tired, and noses at Tony as Tony puts the seat-belt harness back on him.

"Hungry?" Tony asked as they got back on the road. Loki barked, his ears perking up, which Tony chose to interpret as a 'yes'. A few questions to Jarvis leads them to a smokehouse restaurant tucked away in a small shopping mall in nearby King's Park, the windows shaded by blue and white awnings, with a patio area outside. A sizable tip sees them seated outside at the patio, where Tony sips a beer while eating a pretty heavily loaded bacon cheeseburger with fries. Loki inhales a rather amazing amount of something the restaurant calls a Combo Melt, a bun filled with both pulled pork and pulled beef brisket, along with cheddar cheese and fried onions. Loki eats most of the french fries that came with his two servings, though Tony gets his pickles and coleslaw.

They take the expressway back to the city afterwards, which gets them back to the tower while it's still early afternoon.

"Have a good time?" Clint asked as Tony led Loki back into the common room.

"Yeah, drove out to Long Island, went for a long walk, had barbeque for lunch."

"Bring any back for me?" Clint asked hopefully.

Tony laughed. "No, it'd be cold and nasty by now anyway. Go buy your own lunch."

Clint made a face, then snapped his fingers at Loki, who promptly walked over and let Clint give his neck a good scratching. So far the Make Loki Likeable Project (Tony's name for it, over Steve's objections) appears as if it might be bearing fruit; Loki seems to be acting slightly friendlier with all of them over the last few days, and no longer growls when someone pets him.

Tony walks off, feeling reasonably certain that Loki will be spending the next little while being made much of and groomed by Clint, and heads downstairs to see Bruce. Bruce is busy in his own lab, in the clean-room end of it, built more to protect the things he works with from any outside contamination than to protect the outside world from what is in the clean room. Tony sits down on the couch – a much more modern one than the beaten-up thing in Tony's workroom, though almost as comfortable – and watches Bruce work, admiring his intense concentration and the steady, methodical movements he makes as he works. He can see Bruce's lips moving even through the glass and the clean suit's faceplate, and guesses that Bruce is dictating notes to Jarvis. It's not until Bruce has finished whatever he's working on that he finally looks up and acknowledges Tony's presence with a lifted hand before vanishing out of sight into the airlock-like changing room.

Bruce soon emerges back into the main room of the lab, out of the clean suit and dressed in the very boring slacks and polo shirts he seems to prefer for day to day wear, looking moderately pleased with himself.

"Things going well?" Tony asks.

"Yeah. Getting some interesting results anyway. No closer to solving my own problem, but I may have found something that could help treat radiation exposure in others. Though that's just a preliminary guess, it's going to take a lot of additional testing before I can be sure that it's doing what I think it's doing, and that there aren't ant obvious deleterious side effects. How was your drive?"

"Good. How'd you know I went for a drive?"

"Jarvis. I was looking for you earlier and he told me where you'd gone."

"Looking for me? Anything interesting?"

"Nah, just wanted to find out if there'd been any readings on Loki's magic yet."

Tony shook his head, letting his frustration show. "Not a damned thing. He's changed form in front of the sensors several times now, and they haven't picked up anything."

"Have you tried checking the data from any of the neutrino detectors? IceCube? MINOS?"

"No, I've been trying to wrangle a look at their numbers, but I don't have any good contacts yet, and you know how protective scientists are of their data before they publish. Even waving a promise of grant money at them hasn't helped yet; I think they're suspicious that I've somehow discovered a commercial use for something neutrino related, and that letting me see their data even in exchange for nice chunk of cash would in some way screw them over."

Bruce smiled crookedly. "I know a few people, let me see what I can find out. Jarvis, send me a list of the times Loki has changed forms, with as exact a time stamp for each as you can manage," he said, and sat down at his laptop, a battered old thing that he'd turned down Tony's offer of a replacement for several times since moving into the tower.

He slid on his reading glasses, then typed away for a while, staring off into space several times as he mulled over his wording, before finally pushing his chair back from the desk and taking his glasses off again, restoring them to his pocket. "It'll likely take a while before I get any answer."

Tony smiled. "Thanks. I don't know whether I'm hoping they do or don't detect anything. On the one hand, yay if they do, it's a clue! On the other hand neutrino detectors are a pain in the ass and don't scale all that well, at least in terms of making them smaller than a large building in size, seeing as the smaller they are the exponentially less chance there is of actually having anything to detect."

Bruce smiled. "So if it is something detectable in any of the ways neutrinos are, that doesn't exactly help up. Much."

"Exactly. Though I've also just thought of someone else we should bring in on this for ideas, since it's kinda-sorta related to what she's already researching."

"Oh? Oh! Jane Foster."

"Took the words right out of my mouth. Should we call her or just go drop in on her? I think we should drop in on her. It's harder for her to ignore people when they're physically present and making mouth-noises at her and getting in her way."

Bruce grinned, and started to open his mouth.

"_Don't_ say it! Though maybe that's why Darcy gets along so well with me. She's already totally familiar with the type."

Bruce smiled and shrugged, and rose to his feet. "No need for me to say a thing when you're so eloquent on the subject yourself."

"Jarvis! Let Steve know Bruce and I are going out for a bit."

"_Of course, sir._"

* * *

Loki rolls around scratching his back on the floor of his room for a few moments, not feeling at all itchy but wanting to replace the too-easily-recalled sensation of being groomed by Clint with a memory that isn't as seductively pleasant. Not that it works particularly well, but he at least reaches a point where he can suppress the urge to go find someone else who will pat or pet or scratch him, and instead bats the interface hologram around the room for a couple of minutes, until it is placed where he wants it near the bed. He presses the button that flips it over to what Tony has irreverently named nose-key mode, a recent addition to it capabilities, then flops down on the mattress.

A smaller, curved interface of buttons detaches from the lower edge, positioning itself within easy range of his nose, while the main interface draws back a little and increases in size, so that text will be at a reasonable size and distance for his eyes to watch. He has already noticed that he gets less headaches since this change, and while prolonged use of the nose-pad buttons still gives him a sore neck and shoulders after a while, they require much less in the way of gross movements than previous interfaces did, so it is a longer time before such aches begin to build in the first place.

Jarvis opens the text screen to the same page he was last looking at, an entry in the knowledge site known as _Wikipedia_, and Loki spends some time reading about the history and culture of a long-gone place called the Achaemenid Empire. It is slow going; even at the speed that he is capable of reading at, there are just so many names and terms that he must follow links to read about and understand, though some are names that have crossed his path before, like Xerxes and Alexander the Great. But the links he does follow have their own links as well, a proliferation of connections and related information and definitions that he can drink in and in and in and seemingly never find an end to.

The amount of knowledge the Midgardians have in even just this one place of knowledge is appalling, and even that it is only a summary, a precis, of their history and sciences, their arts, music, technology, the important places and people of their past. They lived and died so quickly; in the years that his... that the All-Father has ruled Asgard, since his own doubtless ill-omened birth, there have been hundreds, thousands, tens of thousands and hundreds of thousands of lives of import among the short-lived mortals. Millions, even. The claimed population of their planet at this moment is a staggering number, one near-impossible to comprehend, even to he who has seen the vastness of the army that Thanos is gathering in the dark places.

Even after subtracting deaths from the births, earth gains more people each month than occupy all of Asgard. Granted it is many times larger in habitable surface area than Asgard, they are still wildly, insanely, unbelievably prolific; in all his long life Odin has had but three sons of his own body – Thor, Balder, and Týr – and while there are rumours of more, Loki has never been able to find any evidence of truth to the whispers that say Hermod and Bragi are also sons of Odin, nor any sign of the son that Odin is said to have fathered on a giant. Unless it was fathered on a frost giant, and he is truly Odinson after all, and not Laufreyson... no, he will not believe that, he _cannot_ believe that. He will not allow himself to even consider it. So... three acknowledged blood-sons of Odin, in all the long centuries of the All-Father's life.

For much of their history, it seems, _three_ has a been a small number of children for a mortal family to have, some of them having children into the double digits, and those children all born within a span of years that rarely sees even two children born in all of Asgard, apart from the very rare twins. Yet mortals sometimes give birth to a whole litter of children at once. _Like animals_, he tells himself.

He suspects now, uneasily, that even with the full might of the chitauri backing him, this planet would have been near-impossible to subdue; annihilate vast parts of its population, certainly, but _rule_ them? They cannot even rule themselves. Even the so-called United Nations here in New York – one of the several reasons for why he had picked this city for the start of the invasion – does not do anything that would be regarded as rule anywhere else in the nine realms.

They are maddening creatures. He returns to his methodical acquisition of knowledge, trying to make sense of their madness.


	19. A Sudden Alarm

Steve was sitting at the breakfast counter, sketching Natasha while she prepared lunch herself, Steve and Clint, when Jarvis' alarm sounded; the very short, very loud one that meant 'Avengers Assemble _now_' and incoming danger, not the longer and somewhat quieter one that meant to suit up and wait on a briefing before heading out elsewhere.

Natasha had already switched off all the elements, dropped the spatula she'd been using to flip grilled cheese sandwiches, and dove in the direction of weapons locker disguised as a pantry unit before the alarm finished sounding. Clint, being closer to it than she was, already had it rolling open, Jarvis having helpfully unlocked it for them. Steve cursed as he rose, knocking his stool, sketchpad and pencils flying; his shield was down in his quarters, since he didn't make a habit of carting it around within the tower. He'd have to make do with whatever weapons were on hand.

"_Incoming hostiles,_" Jarvis explained. "_Dropping from above. Unsure of exact nature but they appear to be armoured or robotic forms descending on jet-powered wings. Lockdown mode initiated for lower floors, all personnel are either evacuating or moving to their panic rooms._"

The locker holds armour as well as weapons, though no great amount of it, which means that Natasha and Clint at least have Kevlar vests to shrug into. There isn't one large enough for Steve in the locker. "Gun me," he called, and Clint tossed him a pistol and a handful of clips. "Going for my own gear," Steve told them, and raced for the stairs down, slamming a magazine into the gun as he moved.

He spotted Bruce in the stairwell, the scientist taking two steps at a time on his way upstairs, presumably heading to join Clint and Natasha. "Tony's suiting up," Bruce called. "We were in his lab already so he decided to take the time to put on the heavy suit."

Steve nodded as they passed. The suitcase suits and self-assembling suits of various vintage that are tucked away in odd corners of their floors are good to have on hand in a pinch, but they sacrifice armour thickness and armaments for convenience; the best suits in terms of protection and weapons load-out are the ones that need the help of Jarvis and a whole lot of robotic arms to put on and take off. The heavy suit is, naturally, the most heavy-duty of them all. "See you upstairs shortly, I need my shield," Steve said.

"Jarvis, what's happening?" Steve asked as he plunged through to door to his floor, where one of Jarvis' arms is already holding out his shield, his armour carousel – another of Tony's little toys, also Jarvis-controlled – holding out the version of his armour that's easier to wear over everyday clothing, so he doesn't have to strip down to put it on, just yank it on over top like climbing into a rather bulky snowsuit.

"_Hostiles still incoming, sir, first contact estimated in two minutes. Dr Banner is moving to the roof to handle any who land there, while Mr Barton and Ms Romanov are taking out the quinjet to try and deal with as many as they can in the air. Sir should be joining them shortly. Harness ready, Captain,_" Jarvis adds, a pair of arms holding out an already-loaded weapons harness, like a valet offering a jacket.

Steve grinned as he shrugged it on. "Thanks, Jarv, you're the best," he called as he sprinted back to the stairwell.

"_You're most welcome, Captain Rogers. Contact imminent. Activating in-house anti-hostile protocols._"

As he raced back up the stairs, headed for the roof as well, Steve pulled the miniature headset out of its pocket on the collar of the suit, hooking it in place into and over his ear before pulling up the cowl. He was unsurprised to hear Coulson's voice already giving orders on the command circuit; Jarvis telling him that the other three Avengers were already deploying had been enough for him to be certain that the agent was already at work, doing his job.

Steve listened as Coulson's voice calmly described their attackers, the number of them, what had been observed of their capabilities so far (little), and guesses as to what weapons they appeared to be armed with based on visuals (forearm- and head-mounted weapons of unknown type, based on armoured projections at those points, possibly something in the bulky back carapace, unless that was merely the location of the fuel for their jets).

"We have a Hulk," Coulson added conversationally. "First touchdown. Quinjet is in the air. Iron Man is in the air. Second touchdown. More imminent."

Steve burst out of the roof access door in time to see the Hulk take down the first attacker, his massive first sending the armoured form flying, armour crumpled in a way that would be very damaging – likely lethal – if the armour did in fact contain a living being. The second touchdown Coulson had mentioned was holding both arms straight before it with hands hanging limp, like an extra in a zombie movie, except this one had its arms pointed at the Hulk's back and there were definitely openings in the bulges projecting upwards from its wrists, a single round opening in its right-hand bulge, and a honeycomb of small ones on the left. Its right hand fisted, and a steam of bullets sprayed from the bulge, its arm shaking slightly from the repeated recoil. The bullets ricocheted off of the Hulk's skin, annoying him rather than injuring him, and he spun and jumped, backhanding the attacker right off the roof.

Another armoured form touched down right in front of Steve, and he had his shield flying toward it even before both of its feet had settled to the ground, knocking it flying back into the Hulk, who growled in annoyance even as he pummelled it. Things got busy after that, the world narrowing to the fight around him and Coulson's calm voice in his ear, keeping all of the Avengers appraised of the progress of the overall fight, and watching everyone's back at once, calling out warnings and offering information and suggestions.

* * *

Loki leaps up from his mattress as a loud noise sounds, startled at first and then, realizing it is an alarm, wonders what the cause of it is. He doesn't have to wait very long before finding out, as the noise stops as abruptly as it started, Jarvis' voice cutting in to give warning of approaching attackers. He fears it is the chitauri, or some other of Thanos' minions come to claim him, and stands frozen for a moment, terrified.

He wishes desperately that he could use his powers, but trapped in this form as he is, there is nothing he can do. He frantically fights the spell binding him, wanting to throw it off, to have access to his full powers again, but the spell is strong and does not yield. He is growling with anger, anger only increased as this body struggles with instincts that command it to either flee or fight.

Movement outside the window catches his eye, a red-and-gold form streaking upwards; Stark, in his ridiculous Iron Man costume. Loki raced over to the window, peering upwards. He cannot see much, just dark specks high overhead getting larger as they move nearer to the tower, a glimpse or two of Iron Man swooping around. Debris lands on the balcony outside Loki's rooms; bits of metal, it looks like, chunks of stone or cement.

He glimpses a large form hurtling downwards, only just able to back away from the glass before it slams down on the balcony outside, momentum sending it smashing in through the windows. He barks at it, feeling a combination of frantic fear and anger that it is intruding on his territory, and can't even sort out which feelings belong to his form and which to him. The feeling of fear only increases as it moves, beginning to push itself upright.

"_Hostile intruder on common floor,_" Jarvis' voice says, as a fixture on the roof of Loki's room drops open, smoothly unfolding to reveal some sort of machine. "_Loki, I would suggest you move elsewhere,_" it adds, and then the machine opens fire towards the armoured intruder, even as the intruder moves to point one arm in Loki's direction.

Loki leaps to the side, yelping as a cloud of _something_ narrowly misses him; a cloud of tiny projectiles, he guesses, based on the ragged patch of floor that appears where he had just been standing. He keeps moving, racing out into the hallway and along it, nails scrabbling against the floor as he makes the turn into the common room. He can hear the ceiling-mounted gun still firing, noises that he assumes is the intruder firing back, as he dives for the corner behind the chair. Not a particularly good hiding place, but he is unable to think of any place in the rooms he is allowed access to that would be any safer.

"_Second hostile intruder on common floor,_" Jarvis' voice says, and Loki hears sounds of fighting start up somewhere else nearby. "_Third hostile intruder on training level. Hostiles entering tower at multiple floors. Engaging multiple targets._"

Loki's animal form wants to whimper in fear, but he forces himself to remain still, to remain silent. He startles at a whirring noise, whirls to attack and stops as he sees it is the floor-cleaning robot. "Loki, follow Jarvis' remote," it says to him in Tony's voice, then nudges against him once before rolling away. He rises and hurries after is as it leads him across the common room, into the entertainment room, and then through a door into a part of the tower that he has not been in before, a white-painted corridor with a series of glass and metal doors along one side of it. The sounds of fighting are more distant now, and his fear begins to lessen.

He follows the remote along the hallway, and sees that the doors lead into small storage rooms, the first few glass-doored ones filled with what he guesses to be additional stores of food stuffs and beverages for the kitchen and bar; canned goods, cereal, jugs of milk, cartons of juice, racks of wine, shelves full of other bottled goods. Frost edges the doors of one room, filled with what he assumes to be frozen foods. The doors change from glass to solid metal; no sign of what is contained within. The remote stops at a narrow metal door inset in the wall, less than two feet in width and a yard in height. The door slides upwards, revealing a dark tunnel; the lights in the hallway penetrate only a short distance in. The remote heads into it.

Loki does not much like the idea of entering the place, but does. The door slides shut behind him, leaving him in total darkness, and he freezes. Not total darkness, he realizes after a moment, as his eyes adjust. There is light leaking out from underneath the remote, surrounding it with a faint reflected glow, making it just barely visible in the darkness. Clever, he thinks, and resumes following it.

The tunnel is neither straight nor level; he guesses he is being led to another floor, lower in the tower. The tunnel is also not a single tunnel; there are branches leading off of it. They pass other doors, including one that he can feel heat radiating from, and catches the scent of burning from behind; part of the tower must be on fire. He can hear Jarvis' voice speaking in the distance some times, but where he is the AI does not speak; if these tunnels are meant only for the use of its robots, he supposes it makes sense that there would be no point in placing speakers in here.

He wonders how extensive this tunnel system is, and whether it could be used to bypass the defences that exist in the public areas of the tower.

The remote finally leads him out of the tunnels. He is a large room, with industrial rubber flooring and cement walls; around the walls and in rows down the middle of the room are metal structures, with round or square bases on the floor, and metal bits in the shape of an upside-down L of varying heights rising from them. There are a handful of machines like the remote he has followed already here, each standing in one of the bases, and even as he watches the his remote stops at a round-based structure along the wall, turns in place, and drives up onto the base of it, the end of the L's arm socketing into an indentation on its side.

Jarvis' voice speaks, explaining. "_This is the storage vault for my remotes, Mr Loki. Given the nature of some of them, it is a well-guarded location, and would take considerable effort for the attackers to reach, if they're even aware of its existence. So far they do not appear to have a specific goal within the tower, apart from mayhem._"

It gets rather boring after that; Jarvis occasionally speaks to tell him a little about the progress of the battle outside of the tower, there is still the very distant sounds of fighting, but otherwise it is quiet.


	20. Aftermath

Loki wanders the room, sniffing at the mechanical things there and feeling increasingly uneasy. The sounds of combat have become sporadic, but some of them are definitely closer, and there's been a few explosions elsewhere of enough strength to make the tower shake. He finds it hard not to growl constantly, and every time there's another loud outbreak nearby it's all he can do not to just give in and bark his head off to release some of the building tension.

The entrance to the tunnels is still closed, but there's a smell of smoke near it now; he's torn between keeping away from it, and keeping away from the door at the other end of the room, the only two points of entry.

He flops down on the floor midway between the two, wishing there was somewhere in this room to hide, but as empty as it is overall, there is no real place where he would not quickly be seen. Within minutes he jumps to his feet, lips peeling back from his teeth in a loud growl as another burst of fighting sounds from somewhere just outside the vault.

* * *

Tony flew another circuit around the tower, taking shots at robots inside of it as he spotted them, dodging their sporadic return fire; mostly Jarvis is keeping them too busy to worry about anything outside of the tower. The upper floors were looking pretty ugly, many of the windows either blown in or blown out, and there were a couple of places where explosions have knocked out a significant portion of the facade. He avoided glancing down at street level, merely hoped that the wide awnings around the tower had kept the worst of it from falling onto the sidewalks, while mentally cursing the sort of evil assholes who thought launching an attack on a skyscraper that caused bits of it to rain down on unsuspecting people below is anything like _a good idea_.

Coulson's voice warned of several of the intruders having managed to link up on the common room floor; Jarvis chimed in with the information that a separate group of them have made it into the building's stairwell, where he is currently dealing with them. If Jarvis could sound smug, he would; so far he's got a better kill-count on the robots – confirmed now to have nothing organic inside of them – than the rest of the Avengers do (okay, the rest of the Avengers minus Hulk, who seems to be way more muscle than the robots can handle being tackled by). As soon as the robotic nature of their attackers became clear, it freed Jarvis of a bunch of protocols that might otherwise have tied his hands – such as they were – in a fight. Jarvis, in other words, is having a high old time getting in on the fight and delivering a world of hurt on a scale and across a range of locations that no one else on the team can possibly match.

"_Sir, there are multiple hostiles near my vault and the few of my remotes in the area that are still functional are running low on ammunition. I estimate less than five minutes remain before the vault will be compromised._"

"Shit. Do they seem to be specifically heading for it?"

"_No sir, though I suspect I may have inadvertently drawn attention to that floor by defending it more adamantly than other areas within the tower._"

"Ouch. Can you lead Loki somewhere else?" Tony asked, even as he tipped downwards and sped toward an opening into the maintenance level where Jarvis' remote vault was.

"_The tunnel system has been compromised by the fire on Mr Barton's level of the tower and has filled with smoke; not an issue for my remotes, but potentially harmful for Mr Loki._"

"Got it. Fetching the dog," Tony said, and swooped into the maintenance level, dodging debris and torn up robotic bodies, and the tangled, still-sparking remains of several of Jarvis' remotes danging from the ceiling. He hit the first cluster of robots from the back, successfully disabling two of them before the third could turn and engage him. It was a tough fight after that, other robots in the area converging on him, and given the tight confines of the maintenance level's walkways, it wasn't an easy place for him to fight within.

"No more attackers remaining outside the tower," Coulson reported calmly at some point.

"Yeah, well, still a lot of them inside of it," Tony pointed out as he took out another pair of robots and flung himself to the side as they returned fire before collapsing, swearing as the needle-gun of one chewed a hole in the upper arm of his suit, thankfully mostly missing the flesh underneath.

Finally he reached the vault door, disabling one last robot that was chasing after him before turning to face the door. Jarvis opened it for him as he flipped his visor open for a moment. "Loki!" he called out. "To me!"

The dog barrelled across the floor to him, and he dropped to one knee for a moment to pick Loki up, aware of the sounds of more robots closing in on them. "Hold on," he said before his visor slid shut again, which he only later decided was something rather silly to have said to a being who was currently without hands.

Flying without the steering aid of his hand repulsors was always tricky, but was at least something he'd had a lot of practise with since building his first suit; he shot back out of the tower the way he'd come in, Loki's not unsubstantial weight cradled against his suit in his two arms, and was briefly thankful that Loki wasn't a real dog; a real dog would likely have struggled, especially when they emerged from the tower and had a whole lot of nothing under them.

Tony was still trying to figure out where he could safely set down and leave Loki, when Jarvis and Coulson reported that all hostiles within the tower appear to be neutralized at last. SHIELD personnel were on site by then, starting cleanup down around the base of the tower. Tony allowed himself to look downward, cursing under his breath as he saw that, yes, at least one chunk of tower had scored a direct hit on passing traffic. He hoped – possibly fruitlessly – that whomever was in the vehicles involved had survived. The part of being a superhero and a target for unfriendly fire that he hates most and can do the least about is this; the possibility of collateral damage to people whose only fault was being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

He flew back toward the tower, in through one of the worse blowouts, landing in a rather thoroughly gutted room. It took him almost half a minute to realize where he is, the place is so chewed up; only the tattered remains of a large futon mattress, on fire and with the remains of at least two of the robots smouldering on top of it, clued him in. Loki's room. He flipped his visor open again, then picked his way across the room to the hallway, and from there makes his way to the common room, carrying Loki still since there's no safe place to set him down. The place is a disaster area.

"Well, looks like we'll need to find new quarters for you," he says to Loki. "Where's the nearest undamaged peeler, Jarvis?" He'd already seen that the outside peeling dock on his level is going to need to be fixed; the Hulk apparently had a bit of an altercation on it with a group of the robots, and Jarvis had deployed the peeler's arms in ways they weren't designed for to help out with the fight. Likely some of the damage is due to 'friendly fire' – Hulk's friend versus foe decision-making can get a little hazy in the heat of battle, and he hasn't worked directly with Jarvis (or Jarvis' extensions) in a fight before.

"_The peeler on this level is also incapacitated, sir. You'll need to go down to your lab. The fire on Mr Barton's level is out now but I would recommend not taking the stairwell at this point in time._"

"Right," Tony said, and flew out of the building again, dropping down past the residential levels to the lab levels, flying in via the suit entrance to the wide hallway that doubled as an elevator lobby. Nothing had broken into here, he was pleased to see, and set Loki down at last. "Stay," he ordered him, and ducked into the lab long enough to let Jarvis get him back out of his suit. He slapped antiseptic and bandages on anywhere he was bleeing, swearing as he wrapped gauze around his upper arm to take care of the bit where needles chewed a shallow gouge in his flesh, the worst of the injuries he's taken today. He threw his current tshirt into a locker, replacing it with a long-sleeved top to hide the bandage, then grabbed a bottle of mineral water out of the fridge on his way back out, popping the top and sucking half of it back right away; long sessions in the suit tend to leave him feeling dehydrated.

"Stick close to me," Tony ordered Loki once he reached the hallway. Most of the tower is still in lock-down, and he'd rather not use the elevators until he's sure they're safe anyway, so they take the stairs down, stepping over and around the few now-incapacitated robots that made it this far, as Tony led the way to one of his control stations in the maintenance levels of the tower. In truth he could do almost anything non-physical that needed doing in the tower from anywhere that gives him access to Jarvis, including via StarkPhone in a pinch, but the stations are specifically set up with useful things like a comfortable chair, plentiful monitors and his preferred extended keyboard layout, as well as, yes, a coffee maker, a small freezer of snacks, and a combination microwave-toaster-convection-oven thing that Pepper keeps telling him he should look into producing commercially, since it has most of the benefits of all of the above and few of their drawbacks. He grabbed a large meat-lover's pizza and a vacuum-sealed canister of pre-ground coffee beans out of the freezer, and started the pizza heating and some coffee brewing before finally throwing himself down in the chair, finishing off his water as he scanned over the screenfuls of data that Jarvis already had up, and started the process of getting the tower out of lockdown and back to normal operations, at least down on the undamaged floors.

"Talk to me, Jarvis," he muttered, and then got lost in doing all the things that needed to be done in the wake of the robot attack, not even aware of Loki curled up on the floor nearby until the god caught Tony's hand in his teeth and drew his attention to the fact that the pizza and coffee were both going cold.

* * *

It was interesting watching Tony at work. His focus on the tasks at hand would be admirable, did it not mean that he was ignoring such things as sustenance; it has been a long time since breakfast, and thanks to the attack Loki never had any lunch today. This body is feeling increasingly hungry, and even a little shaky now that everything is over. It is also flooding him with desires he finds hard to ignore, wanting physical comforting, wanting verbal reassurance, wanting to stay close to the man seated nearby. He has given in to the desires as far as curling up near Tony's chair, trying to ignore how _safe_ the nearness makes him feel. Trying to forget the fear mixed with anger he felt earlier, hearing fighting just outside the door of the room he'd been hiding in, the surge of relief and joy when the door opened to reveal Tony, calling him over. He tells himself it is just the animal's feelings he is remembering, none of his own.

His stomach growled again, mouth watering from the smell of the food nearby. Loki finally gave up and put his forepaws on Stark's leg, catching one of his hands in his mouth and physically pulled it away from the keyboard, then looked pointedly in the direction of the glass-fronted box with the cooked pizza sitting cooling inside of it once he had Tony's attention.

"Oh, whoops... right, food. One minute, Coulson," Tony said, and rose to his feet, yanking the pizza out of the oven and setting it down within reach of his chair, then added cream and sugar directly to the coffee carafe and set that and a mug down by the other side of his keyboard. He looked at the coffee pot, then down at Loki. "Right. Water for you," he said, and dug in the cabinet, finding a bowl to fill with water from the tiny sink before setting it down on the floor. He found a couple of plates as well, then flung himself back down in the chair, leaning forward to tear wedges off of the pizza, placing one plate full down on the floor for Loki and then slumping back in his chair, chewing hungrily at the other. "I'm back. Go on," he told the face on the monitor, mouth still full of food, and listened attentively.

Loki drank some of the water, then wolfed down the portion of pizza he'd been dealt before drinking more. He was still hungry afterwards. Tony was talking to another head now, some dark-haired female Loki didn't recognize, a half-eaten wedge of pizza being waved around in one hand as he talked about things like _liability_ and _compensation_, and _making things right_. Loki edged closer, then rested his chin on Tony's knee and stared hopefully at the pizza. Tony eventually noticed him, and gave him a distracted smile, then held the pizza down where Loki could get at it. When it was finished, Tony leaned forward and got two more slices, nibbling on one and hand-feeding the other to Loki.

Loki realized after a while that the head had changed again, and that this one was staring at him. He turned his head and stared back, unable to suppress a deep growl when he saw that it was a one-eyed man. Not Odin, of course, but Fury, the director of SHIELD, whom he encountered the year before.

"Cut it out, Loki," Tony said. "No growling at strange men, even if they are yelling at me. Good boy. Have more pizza," he added, and Loki was certain that he heard approval in Tony's voice at his having growled. He suspects that the additional pizza is being given to him both as a reward and because it annoyed the watching man for Tony to be paying attention to Loki instead of him. Loki remained silent, continuing to eat the rest of his slice, and Tony's crust as well, while keeping his eyes focused intently on Fury. He was delighted to see that his stare made the man uneasy, made him keep sneaking glances in Loki's direction. He purposefully squirmed a little, once the pizza was done, until Tony started absentmindedly scratching his ears, which made the man frown even more. Eventually the man's face goes away, replaced by that of the woman who visited here before, the one that Jarvis called Ms Potts, and whom Tony calls Pepper in a tone of voice that gives away a lot more than Tony is likely aware of.

"Tony, everything's under control now. Go do something more useful than trying to single-handedly run all of the cleanup yourself; we have people for that, remember? Bruce tells me he has a couple of the robots in your lab already – go play with him or something, okay?"

Tony smiled fondly at her. "Yes, Pepper," he agreed.

"And get to bed at a decent time tonight. Jarvis will be calling me if you try to stay up beyond midnight, and I will be _very_ unhappy if he's calling me at nine my time to let me know you need me to call and tell you to go to bed. Understand?"

"Yes, Pepper."

"And don't you 'yes, Pepper' me, young man," she said, grinning a little.

Tony grinned back. "Yes, Ms Potts."

"Better, Mr Stark," she said primly, and went away. Tony bounced to his feet, cleaning away the mess from the coffee and pizza, then heads back upstairs again, by elevator this time, Loki staying quietly at heel the whole way. He is delighted when Tony walks right into his lab without commanding Loki to remain in the hallway this time; he is very curious to see the place.

Dr Banner is standing by a table at one end of the large, equipment-filled room, looking thoughtfully at a partially-destroyed robot spread out on it. He glanced up, and frowned when he saw Loki. "You allowing him in here?" he asked cautiously.

Tony glanced down. "Oh. Right. Yeah, why not. Loki, go sit on the couch for now. Bark if you need anything. Stay away from everything else in here unless told otherwise."

Loki turned away and trotted over to the couch in one corner of the room, jumping up on it and stretching out with his head resting on his forepaws, watching as Bruce and Tony examine and then begin disassembling the robot, talking back and forth about power supply, flight capability, magazine size, needle guns, flechets, optical targeting systems, and a wide range of other topics that meant little to Loki.

Steve came in eventually with food – several bags full of Chinese takeout – and all of them sit together on the couch eating it, Steve telling them what SHIELD has learned about the likely source of the robots so far – some madman who goes by the name of Dr Doom – and Tony and Bruce enthusing over the things they think are most interesting about the robots (little) and disparaging all their flaws (a very long list).

"I might steal part of the design of the wrist-mounted needle gun unit for the suit, though I've got better ideas than simple metal needles for it to shoot. Like miniature versions of Barton's exploding arrowheads, except instead of being electronically activated I'd go for some contact-based mixing of the two reagents. Hits something, the impact shatters it, the reagents mix, boom. Not as controlled a reaction as his arrowheads have, nor anything like as big an explosion, but mix those in with the standard metal needles and it'd chew the hell out of whatever it hit. The trick will be making something that can survive being shot out the gun without breaking prematurely, since that would be kind of bad."

Steve just looked thoughtful, and shovelled more noodles into his mouth. Bruce looked thoughtful too. "Might be interesting to try," he agreed after a while.

Steve stayed after the meal, puttering around cleaning up from their meal and tidying up the detritus of forgotten coffee mugs and plates with dried-on food and so on around the lab. Eventually he sat down on the couch beside Loki with one of his sketchpads and a set of pencils, settling back comfortably in the seat and spending a couple of hours just sketching Tony and Bruce at work, plus a study of Loki which he showed to him after it was done, before finally wandering off again. Bruce left an hour or so later. Eventually Jarvis started reminding Tony of his promise to Ms Potts, which Tony didn't respond to at all, obviously pretending not to hear.

"_Calling Ms Potts now, sir,_" the AI eventually said.

Tony looked up, stricken. "You didn't just say that!" he exclaimed. "Tattle-tale!"

He dropped his tools and hurried toward the door.

"Tony – _go the fuck to bed_," Pepper's voice growled out of Jarvis' speakers.

"Yes, Pepper! On the way now!" Tony called back over his shoulder as he raced out of the room, Loki grinning with amusement as he followed.

Tony seemed to have forgotten his presence again, not even noticing when Loki followed him off of the elevator and into his quarters – where there was some damage visible in the living area, it being one of the places the robots had broken into – and then on upstairs into his undamaged bedroom. Tony stumbled into the bathroom, muttering to himself, and Loki stretched out on the floor by the door into it, listening to the sounds of Tony showering and brushing his teeth and whatever other arcane rituals Tony went through before bed.

When Tony finally emerged in a cloud of scented steam, his hair still damp and dressed in a pair of red jersey sleep pants, he was already looking more than half-sleep. He stumbled across to the floor directly to the bed before throwing himself face-down on top of it. Loki stared, and snorted in amusement when Tony started snoring almost immediately.

He realized after a while that he was in need of sleep also, and while he could have remained on the floor, or moved to the rug, he decided he might as well sleep in relative comfort too. He jumped up on the foot of the bed, curling up and dropping off to sleep almost as quickly as Tony had.

* * *

Tony woke, bladder demanding to be emptied _now_. He stumbled into the bathroom, took care of that, and was halfway back to the bed before he realized there was someone already in it. On it. Whatever. A familiar someone, with an impossibly long and lanky body and tousled black hair, curled up at the foot of it and snoring softly. Only then did he realize he hadn't thought of any new place for Loki to sleep, with the common level all but gutted, and that the only locational instructions he'd giving him since retrieving him were to stick close, and to stay on the couch and away from everything else while in the lab. It's not Loki's fault that he's in here, in Tony's own bedroom, though Tony suspects it is the damn dog's...god's... fault that he's actually up on Tony's own bed.

"Six impossible things before breakfast," he mumbled, decided he was too tired out from the long fight and even longer cleanup the day before to think about it any further now, and continued on to bed, this time crawling under the sheets before conking out again. He just hoped Loki would be polite enough to not turn into something nightmarish overnight.


	21. A Familiar Face

**With NaNoWriMo this month, updating on this may slow for a while (mind you I seem to say that almost every year and it rarely actually happens). We'll see how things go :)**

* * *

Tony was confused for a moment on waking by the feeling of a weight holding down his ankles. He craned his head, squinting at the foot of the bed, and saw that there was a dog lying with its head resting on his legs; no longer an elkhound, but a slightly bigger dog with a similar build, and similar shading of black-tipped hairs over a creamy white base, its eyes as it peered back at him a startlingly pale blue.

"Husky?" he asked, voice rough from sleep.

"_No, though your guess is quite close, sir – an Alaskan Malemute, I believe._"

"Right," Tony said, sighed, and climbed out of bed, feeling every sore spot from yesterday's battle. Jarvis started running through his normal morning rundown and then segued into the damage reports while Tony went into the bathroom, brushed his teeth, combed his hair, and changed the dressings on his injuries. Most of them were scabbed over nicely enough to just need a bit of gauze taped over them to protect them from rubbing against his clothes, but the gouge on his upper arm was still pretty ugly looking, and he had to soak the bandage free before being able to clean and redress it. Tony cursed a little, at a combination of the pain of changing the awkwardly placed bandage and hearing just how much damage had been done to the worst-hit areas of the tower. The common floor was going to need a near-complete rebuild, though thankfully the hanger for the quinjet and the peeler adjacent to it had taken little harm and that mostly cosmetic, at least compared to the remainder of the floor anyway.

He went back to his bedroom, and changed into jeans and a short-sleeved tshirt over a long-sleeved shirt, still hiding the bandage, since someone would pester him about it otherwise. It was only when he was checking in the mirror to make sure that he'd succeeded in taming the bedhead that he even remembered that Loki-the-wonder-dog was still there, and had been a witness to his changing clothes. Doubtless ending up with an eye-full of Tony's naked butt in between the sleep pants going off and the boxers going on. Oops. Well, fair's fair, he supposed, and it wasn't like he hadn't seen Loki's naked tush a time or three by now. Not that he'd looked on purpose or anything.

"_Ms Romanov's floor was largely unscathed in the attack and she has invited all Avengers to join her for breakfast there. She had said to say that she is making blintzes._"

"Sweet, on my way," Tony said, and headed down to Natasha's floor, Loki following along at heel.

Her kitchen was tiny compared to the common room's now-destroyed one, so everyone was gathering in her not-entirely-unscathed living room while she cooked, Clint sitting at the kitchen table in her equally small eating area while he chopped fillings for blintzes; the public areas of the personnel quarters on each floor were set up more for intimate gatherings with just one or two close friends than for entertaining groups, so it was going to be a snug fit to have them all there. Tony watched with barely-concealed amusement as Loki made the rounds of the room, everyone scratching or petting him with varying degrees of awareness; they were clearly all getting pretty used to him being there as a dog.

"So, rebuilding," Tony said as he made himself comfortable on the couch between Steve and Bruce. "Steve, Clint, your floors took enough damage that they're pretty much going to need to be gutted and then rebuilt from scratch, let me know if you have any requests in terms of room layout or finishes, Jarvis will speak to you about furnishings once we're that far along. Our common floor is going to need a complete-rebuild as well, any of you who have suggestions for things you'd like to see – yes, Steve, I know you want a gas oven and stove – get them to me or Jarvis. In the meantime until it's rebuilt everyone is invited to make use of my living room and rec room as a common room slash entertainment room, it's not like I use it myself most of the time anyway." There was an unspoken 'since Pepper left' on that statement, since the times he had made use of it, instead of hanging out in the common room with everyone else after they'd all moved in, had pretty much all involved Pepper's company in one way or another.

"More fun hanging out with all of us fine folks," Clint called from the kitchen.

Tony grinned at him. "Maaaybe. Also, a big chunk of the shooting gallery level got taken out. So ditto letting me or Jarvis know about any suggestions or requests you have for there, too. Clint, you wanted some better moving targets, didn't you? Or was that just for the rumpus room?"

Clint shrugged. "Both, preferably, if you're having to rebuild the ranges anyway. Even with you mixing things up in the rumpus room every now and then, it's getting too easy to predict the way the bots will move. They need a new rule set or something."

"Can do," Tony said, pleased. The rumpus room was a three story tall obstacle course/urban fighting area further down the tower, occupying the same five-story chunk of floors as their workout level and shooting-range level. Jarvis had a bunch of paintball gun equipped humanoid robots he could run around in it to simulate enemies, and once a week Jarvis would set up and run a staged exercise for them within the space; recovering a hostage from kidnappers or infiltrating an enemy base and all that sort of thing. Everyone chipped in with ideas and suggestions for scenarios, and Jarvis consulted with Coulson and Steve on putting them together. Tony suspected that Natasha might be the brains behind some of the nastier surprises that sometimes appeared in there.

"_Agent Coulson has accepted your invitation to breakfast and should be up shortly, Ms Romanov,_" Jarvis announced. That got everyone's attention; Coulson had quarters of his own much further down in the tower, hidden away in the office levels, but he rarely left them apart from infrequent trips to SHIELD headquarters when absolutely necessary. The times they'd managed to lure him out to come upstairs and visit for a while were uncommon, and only Clint and Natasha had standing permission from him to visit him in his own rooms downstairs. He'd always been a secretive man; since the Avengers had pried him out of SHIELD's care following his recovery from his near-death experience at Loki's hands, he'd become even quieter. It had taken a lot of fast talking on Tony's part and insistence by Clint, Natasha and Steve to convince him that he was still a valued and useful member of their team; if there was one thing Tony might suspect was going to be a good side-effect of yesterday's attack, it would be how beautifully it had demonstrated Phil's continued usefulness to them, now that he was essentially desk-bound.

By the time the elevator opened and Phil's chair rolled out, they'd already cleared a place for him in the living room. He was looking a lot better then he had the last time Tony had seen him; skin lightly tanned instead of sickroom pale, dressed in tailored grey suit pants and a crisp white shirt and with thin blue stripes instead of a baggy SHIELD-logo tshirt and sweats, actually smiling for once as he steered his chair into place near the couch. He looked pleased as they made him welcome, Natasha popping out of the kitchen long enough to lean down and kiss his temple before dashing back to her frying pans, Clint just grinning and winking at him from where he was still busy dicing a pear at the kitchen table.

Only once they'd all resumed their places did Phil finally turn his attention to Loki. The dog was standing stiffly at the far end of the room, near where plastic sheeting covered a hole blown through the windows. Phil looked him over thoughtfully, then held out his hand a little. "Loki," he said.

Loki stared for a moment longer, then walked slowly over to him, stiff-legged, stopping some distance away and then edging gradually forward to sniff cautiously at Phil's hand, his eyes glued to Phil's at first. He dropped his gaze to look at the wheelchair, brow furrowing and ears going back a little, then looked back up at Phil.

Phil smiled crookedly, pulling back his hand and running it briefly along the armrest. "Not the sort of thing you have in Asgard, from what Thor's told me. But our doctors here can't do much about a damaged spine," he said, his voice as calm as it ever was. "I'm lucky to be alive."

Tony knew there'd been a time when Phil wouldn't have meant those words. He'd gone through a pretty rough time on first waking up out of a coma some months after the Battle of New York, upon discovering he was now a paraplegic and would likely be confined to a wheelchair for the rest of his life. It was only after they'd pretty much kidnapped him from SHIELD a few months ago, that determined to get him to the tower and back on their team, that he'd started to turn around; he hadn't wanted to believe at first that he had any use beyond his ability to kill a man with random office supplies if necessary. They'd gradually been proving to him that his sharp eyes and sharper mind were still of value to them; he might not be up to field work any more, but Agent Phil Coulson was still their handler, as far as the Avengers were concerned.

And even Tony, who still usually maintained the pretence that he didn't particularly care about Coulson, whose first name was Agent, was secretly happy to see the warm look in Phil's eyes when Clint shouted from the next room a few minutes later that Phil had better get in there and help with blintz assembly, or Natasha would kill them both in their sleep with dental floss.

* * *

Loki was startled to see the man who arrived in a wheeled chair. He'd killed that man, personally, been injured by him in turn; not greatly injured, but given how few humans apart from the beast had even been able to scratch his skin, he remembered this man very well. And, all right, yes, the man had technically not been quite dead yet when Loki had left, but he knew how much damage he'd done to the mortal's frail body; he should not have survived more than a handful of minutes longer.

And yet, here he was, still alive, though clearly still damaged by his encounter with Loki; the lower half of his body near-lifeless, though blood still flowed through it, the tissues alive but no longer the brain's to control. In Asgard such an injury could be healed, granted with some effort, but the crude medicine of the humans was clearly unable to mend such damage. Yet despite the injuries he had suffered at Loki's hands, the man gave him much the same unperturbed look as he'd had when he'd confronted Loki over a year before, smiled the same oddly amused little smile, held out one hand and called Loki's name.

A call Loki answered, though reluctantly, feeling more and more disturbed the closer he came to the man, filled with an uneasy feeling, expecting... he wasn't sure what. A sudden show of anger? Disapproval? Punishment? Nothing happened, even when he sniffed cautiously at the man's hand, save a slight increase in the man's amusement at his presence. The man spoke directly to him, just once, then turned his attention elsewhere. Loki retreated to the far end of the room, sitting and watching the Avengers silently, looking from face to face as they spoke with the man. They treasured his presence among them, Loki could see, all of them smiling warmly at him, the tone of their voices betraying the warmth of their feeling toward him.

It made Loki feel even more uneasy, more aware of what an unwanted part of their group he was, here only because of his brother, not because of any wish of theirs.

The man moved his chair again, rolling out of Loki's sight into the kitchen. Tony glanced around, his eyes meeting Loki's, and to his surprise the smile on Tony's face didn't falter; Tony held out one hand, snapped his fingers. Loki rose back to his feet, walking slowly back over to him, forcing himself to remain upright when the body wanted to slink with its tail lowered. Fingers dug soothingly into the fur around the base of his ears. After a moment he shifted a little closer, resting his chin on Tony's knee, and sighed.

Everyone ate gathered together in the living room, the humans eating their blintzes off of small plates while Loki was served a large bowl full of some kind of cooked cracked grain that had been mixed with soft-boiled eggs, all stirred together so the grains were coated and stuck together with bits of egg. He carefully lapped up a taste of it, unsure whether or not he'd like it, and found it quite tasty, though difficult to eat neatly. He was still trying to lick stray grains off of his muzzle when Steve leaned over and offered him a blintz, without Loki having made any effort to charm one from his this time. It didn't look like anyone else was going to give him any, and then Tony cut his last blintz in two with the side of his fork and held half of it out to Loki. He took it delicately from Tony's fingers, not snapping at it, and one side of Tony's mouth curled up in a slight smile, fine lines appearing at the corners of his eyes, a warm expression filling them.

It made him fell... odd. He did his best to ignore the feeling, and stretched out on the floor, his nose almost touching Tony's feet, waiting patiently for the Avengers to end their talk and get on to more interesting things.

* * *

Tony was taking a seat at the workbench in his lab before he realized that Loki was still following him around. Loki had already stretched out on the couch, taking up a noticeable few inches more space than he had the day before, and Tony decided there wasn't any reason to send him elsewhere; it wasn't like he was going to be working on anything secret today, he was just planning out the repairs and renovations to the damaged floors of the tower. Pepper had already arranged for crews from a contractor they'd worked with before to come in and begin the clean-up, as well as tackling the simplest repairs such as replacing broken windows and repairing damaged walls and flooring in the more lightly affected areas. Tony hoped to have plans ready to begin renovations on the more heavily damaged areas ready by the coming Monday, though it would likely mean working through the weekend.

He lost himself in his work for a while, and was startled when Loki showed up at his side, rearing up like the had the previous day to take one of Tony's hands in his mouth and physically pull it away from the drafting tablet. He stared at Loki for a moment, then blinked at the clock, and saw it was almost mid-afternoon already. "Fuck... that late? I guess you're hungry. I guess I should be hungry too," he said. Loki snorted, and dropped back to all four feet, looking expectantly up at Tony.

"Okay, late lunch for you and me," Tony said, and rose to his feet. "Let's go out for something. Should we walk or... no, wait, I guess all your leashes bit the bullet yesterday. Tell you what, we'll drive, and get takeout somewhere."

He led the way to the elevator and down, studying Loki thoughtfully as it descended to the garage, watching the way Loki sat quietly beside his feet, eyes glued on the numerical floor indicators. It had kind of surprised him a little this morning to find that Loki was still sticking with the dog form; maybe Bruce was right and Loki was finding the attention he got as a dog enjoyable, on a level that was avoiding triggering his usual anti-social defences. Maybe the positive reinforcement they'd all been trying to keep in mind was actually working.

He drove to a place in Jersey he knew of that did good burgers, one not too far from a place with a moderately scenic view of the ocean where they could sit in the car and eat. He alternated bites of his own cheeseburger-with-the-works with unwrapping the plain hamburgers he'd ordered for Loki, tearing them in half before setting them down in front of him. They share the thick-cut fries that had come with the burgers, though Loki turned his nose up at the onions rings that Tony had also ordered. Loki watched him attentively, both of them remaining silent over the course of the meal, studying each other.

Loki seemed so dog-like at times that it would be easy to forget there was a human intellect inside that furry skull, were it not for the times when he was definitely not dog-like at all. Such as the way he was currently looking at Tony; the facial expressions, the way the ears twitched back or swiveled forwards, the way his head tilted to one side, those were all the way a dog would move, but there was something in the eyes that belied the animal form. An intelligence, a curiosity, a level of self-aware thought that no dog Tony had ever seen before had possessed.

When he hesitantly reached out to scratch at the dog's head again, even the way Loki looked at his hand and visibly decided to allow it was dog-like, the way he leaned into the touch, the way his eyes half-lidded, his ears twitching forwards again, _everything_, but the expression in his eyes was not.

"I'm kind of surprised you allow this," Tony suddenly admitted. "You haven't exactly struck me as a touchy-feely type before this, and then there's the whole hostility to us lesser beings schtick you had going on. I'd have more expected you to snap my hand off than allow me to scratch your ears. Or pet your neck... can I pet you? Is that allowed? You have really pettable fur at the moment you know," he said, and experimentally ran one hand down Loki's neck, repeating the motion a few times. Loki stiffened a little, but didn't growl. Tony decided not to push it, and after a few strokes started digging his fingers into the fur around the base of Loki's neck and shoulders in a massaging motion. Loki remained stiff at first, then suddenly huffed out air and lowered his head to rest on the seat, going limp.

Tony smiled. "You like that," he said. Loki lifted his lip and growled slightly, but remained relaxed. Tony's smile widened to a grin. "I promise not to tell anyway, but you do like that, don't you?" he said, and then sighed, leaning his head against the back of his seat. "I've always liked a good massage. The trick is finding someone good at them who's willing to give them to me. Without it being sleazy, though there was a time I'd have happily taken even a sleazy massage. And then Pepper happened to me. Supposedly I'm a reformed character now, just... not reformed enough, I suppose. Pepper doesn't give me massages any more. The last good massage I had was from a physical therapist built like a bulldog. Nice woman, very good hands too, but... she was no Pepper."

He sighed, fell silent again, and for a while just sat there watching the ocean, fingers slowing and then stilling, lost in memories. It was only when he realized how cold the day was getting, the chill penetrating the car, that he realized how long the two of them had been sitting there. He finally sat up straight again, cleaned up all the bits of waxed paper and cardboard from their meal, stuffing it all into the takeout bag, then drove back to the Tower.

"Where is everyone, Jarvis?" he asked as they rode the elevator up.

"_Mr Barton is visiting Agent Coulson. Dr Banner is working in his lab. Captain Rogers and Ms Romanov are watching a movie in your quarters, and have ordered in pizza for dinner._"

"Enough for me?"

"_Enough for everyone, sir._"

"Excellent. What are they watching?"

"_Willow is just ending, after which they plan to watch Legend._"

"Ooo, with more floaty bits of organic fluff and glued-on glitter than any sane person should be exposed to. Count me in on that."

"_Of course, sir._"


	22. Glitter and Fluff

Princess Lili had saved the unicorn, Darkness had been banished, Jack had saved Lili in an overwrought slo-mo sequence with glitter, and the movie had ended with a swelling 80s orchestral soundtrack, more slo-mo, and enough organic fluff floating around to set off the hayfever of anyone within a five-mile radius. Mass quantities of both pizza and popcorn had been consumed, and everyone was smiling. Another successful movie night, in other words.

"Anything with Tim Curry in it is automatically good," Tony said with some satisfaction as everyone got up from their seats.

"I don't think I can entirely agree with that," Bruce said thoughtfully.

"Oh? Why not? Not a fan of the Rocky Horror Picture Show? Found him not deliciously evil enough in The Three Musketeers?"

"Moonacre," Bruce said firmly.

Tony hissed through his teeth. "Okay, I'll grant you that one; scads of potential, failed to hit the mark, but come on, Curry's parts in that were _awesome._"

"I think you and I have very different ideas of what's awesome," Bruce said judiciously. "Witness your strange fascination with cheesy 80s movies."

"Hey! There's nothing strange about it! If there's anything the 80s were fantastic for – other than big hair, sequins, glitter and lamé, and the rampant overuse of synthesizers – it was the campy movies. That whole decade rocks the so-bad-it's-good genre. Also the amazingly-cheesy-yet-still-awesome genre. Which reminds me, have we exposed Steve to Time Bandits yet? Or Ladyhawke?"

Steve grinned. "I think the moment you start talking about exposing me to anything is my cue to say good-night and get out of here."

"Aww, you're no fun."

Steve continued smiling. "Good-night, Tony. Night, Bruce," he said firmly, and left with Natasha, leaning toward her to whisper something that made her laugh, before the pair vanished into the waiting elevator.

Tony frowned after them for a moment, then looked back at Bruce, who was gathering up popcorn bowls and stacking them neatly on the bar beside the empty pizza boxes. "So, Steve and Natasha – are you pondering what I'm pondering?"

Bruce paused and raised an eyebrow at Tony, then spoke in a deadpan voice, "I think so, Brain, but where would we get five thousand jars of extra hot salsa on such short notice?"

Tony laughed, hard. "Yeah, whatever... night, Pinky!"

Bruce smiled again. "Good-night, Brain," he said, and left.

Tony turned away, and saw the puzzled stare Loki the malamute was giving him, and started laughing again. "Jarvis, remind me to expose Loki and Steve to cartoon pop culture some time soon."

"_Of course, sir. Should that be soon, soonish, __Soon™, as soon as possible, or MoreSoonerish?_"

"Smart ass."

"_As you have often remarked, better than being a dumb-ass, sir._"

Tony sighed, and stood still for a moment, just enjoying how good he felt after an evening spent with his friends, a deep-seated contentment that made even things like the tower being severely damaged, _again_, seem a comparatively minor annoyance. He stretched, arms folded over his head and back arching, then relaxed again and grinned at Loki. "Come on, Lassie, let's get back to the lab. Hey, Jarvis, what do you think of the idea of an ACME Labs sign to go over my door?"

"_I think you'd be better off replicating the facade around the door and not just the sign, if you wish it to be truly recognizable, though it may require some alterations in vertical scale, sir._"

"Awesome. Find me some pictures of that, would you, and see what you can do in terms of drawing up a draft elevation based on them."

"_Of course, sir._"

"Hey! That was the long-suffering voice! I thought we agreed you wouldn't use that one on me any more," Tony said aggrievedly as he led the way into the elevator.

"_Really, sir? How odd, I don't seem to have a record of any such agreement. Perhaps it has gone astray._"

* * *

By the wee hours of Monday morning Tony had the plans for the renovations finished, and had actually gotten a reasonable amount of food and exercise over the past three days, even if still running rather short on sleep, having remained largely awake apart from a couple of brief naps. Loki had been pretty adamant about regular food, water and walkies, and while Tony could have just taken him upstairs and left him there, and trusted the others to see to it that Loki was cared for... well, he was sort of digging this whole having-a-pet-around thing now. It was kind of nice having another living being in the lab, even if said being had four feet and fur, because it made him feel slightly less crazed when he talked aloud, even if most of the actual talking was still verbal sniping with Jarvis, telling Dummy to put down the fire extinguisher, and shouting at You and Butterfingers to keep them out of things they weren't supposed to be getting into.

Having lengthy one-sided monologues with a dog who listened almost scarily well and responded with surprisingly eloquent body-language just seemed to somehow fit in nicely with all that. Tony and his Amazing Circus of Nonverbal Friends. Well, except Jarvis was pretty damned verbose when he wanted to be. Nonhuman friends maybe?

And, okay, it was also kind of nice the way that Loki would abandon the couch every now and then to come over and rest his head on Tony's knee, wanting his ears scratched or shoulders rubbed, and even the firm way he'd latch onto Tony's sleeve or hand, teeth almost-but-not-really digging into his skin, and make it clear that he wanted food and a walk _now_, thank you very much.

Tony fired off the blueprints to Pepper for her, or rather her PA or whomever else she delegated such tasks to these days, to work their magic with in terms of seeing that the materials, construction crews and tradespeople needed all showed up at the right times to get it all done. He rose from his stool, stretching again, then stood there for a moment, blinking sleepily and trying to remember what he needed to do next. He turned and looked at Loki, who was stretched out over most of the couch, head resting on outstretched forelegs with eyes half-shut, looking about ready to sleep. Right. Sleep. That was it.

"Come on, Rin-Tin-Tin, time for food, a shower, and bed, in more or less that order. If you want a walk this morning I think someone else is going to have to take care of it."

Loki snorted, and rose to his feet, pausing for a good stretch of his own halfway through, then jumped down off the couch, shook himself, and paced over to Tony's side, looking expectantly up at him.

"Too early for anyone else to be up and cooking breakfast yet, you'll have to survive on whatever I can forage out of the fridge, or risk my cooking," Tony told Loki as they took the elevator back upstairs.

His quarters were empty and silent, dimly lit by just enough subdued indirect lighting to make the difference between darkness and a grey twilight. He checked the fridge in his kitchen, and sure enough found some leftovers there from the others having been using the place; a couple of leftover Chinese takeout containers and half a three-cheese and herbs pizza, looking dry enough around the edges that he suspected it was leftovers from that last movie night he'd attended. He tore it into smaller pieces, tossing them in a large bowl with the leftover beef broccoli, setting that and some water down for Loki. He ate the contents of the other container himself, which seemed to be a grab bag of everything else that had been leftover; steamed rice topped with both orange chicken and some sort of chewy beef strips in a spicy red pepper sauce, with steamed mixed vegetables dumped on top. Someone had already picked out all the snow peas and cashews, which he'd always thought were some of the better parts.

He was feeling pleasantly full by the time he'd finished, and increasingly sleepy as the food-coma from eating started to kick in. His fast shower almost woke him up again, despite being a relaxingly warm one, but by the time he'd changed into his sleep pants and crawled into bed, he was fading fast. "Get the blinds, Jarvis," he mumbled, watching as they automatically slid across the wall of windows and tilted shut, blocking out the view of the waking city outside.

Loki was turning circles on the rug by the bed, clearly planning to sleep as well. Tony smiled crookedly. "You can sleep up here if you want," he said, and yawned, then patted the mattress by his hip. Loki gave him a look full of distrust. Tony laughed. "Virtue's safe with me, Fido. But you can sleep wherever you want to, as long as it's within the apartment."

He closed his eyes, and lay there listening to the near-silence of the room. The mattress dipped after a minute or two, and he was just barely aware of a cold wet nose nudging at his hand. He smiled, eyes still closed, and lifted his hand enough to scratch erratically at Loki's ears, asleep before he could think of anything else to say.

* * *

Loki lay awake for a while, watching Tony sleep. The last few days had been strange; ever since the battle he hadn't really wanted to leave Tony's side. Being close to the man gave him a _safe_ feeling, one he hadn't had in far too long, not since the first time that Thor had chosen to side with one of his friends instead of his brother. He knew it was ridiculous for him to feel this way, convinced himself that it was merely a lingering side-effect of having sat so long in that cold vault, listening to the sounds of combat drawing ever-closer; a remnant of the relief he'd felt when the door had opened, and he'd seen Tony there, come to fetch him and keep him safe.

It had been nice staying close to him the last few days, sitting in the lab and watching him work, seeing how absorbed he'd get, seeing the way he reacted to and interacted with his creations, the grin he'd have when Jarvis spoke back to him in some particularly snarky-yet-polite fashion, the fond smile he turned on his mechanical contrivances when they misbehaved.

In some ways the last few days have reminded Loki in an odd fashion of the times in his youth when he'd been too busy studying magic to leave his chambers for days at a time, and of how Thor would show up unexpectedly in his study. Usually Thor would be there to try and cajole him into abandoning his studies for a while, to go riding or do some weapon's practise, or just eat a meal and spend some time in Thor's company. Other times Thor would just find a seat and stay for a while, either watching Loki silently or tending to some bit of work of his own; caring for a weapon or his armour, reading a book, even doing one of the small handicafts that always looked so improbable in his huge blunt-fingered hands.

The thought made Loki feel strange, especially since in this scenario it would be he who was Thor, watching Tony-as-Loki working away at arcane things, most of which he didn't understand, interrupting him occasionally to remind him of the existence of food and the need for exercise. He understands a little better now why Thor used to do it; there is something restful about it, of being an accepted part of the environment... something soothing about just _being there_ while Tony works. A companionable silence, something else he has not enjoyed in many long years.

The acceptance of his presence still surprises him. Not just Tony's acceptance of him, but that of the rest of the Avengers. Part of him wonders if there is some advantage over him they hope to gain by this behaviour. Perhaps they believe that treating him well will make Thor and Odin more well-disposed towards them; in that case they will be sorely disappointed, at least in the case of Odin, who thinks little of the humans and could care less about how Loki is treated. Thor... well, Thor is foolishly sentimental, but Loki cannot think of any gain they would need to seek when Thor is already so enamoured of Midgard and its inhabitants.

He felt uneasy again, and rose to his feet, stepping over Tony's legs toward the far side of the bed. Tony made a faint noise of protest as the mattress shifted under his weight. He paused, peering at the man's sprawled form, then snorted softly, turned a couple of circles, and lowered himself down again, loosely curled up behind Tony with his head pillowed on the man's side.

Perhaps it is time to consider some other form again. He is still reluctant to do so; these canine forms he has been taking are accepted by the Avengers, and as he has previously noted, they are not as on their guard around him as they might otherwise be. Surely it will not hurt to remain a dog for a while longer. Perhaps one that makes them even more likely to dismiss the thought of him being any potential danger.

Something small again, like that second dog had been, that looked comparatively harmless.

Something _fluffy_ he thinks, and grins for a moment, before finally allowing himself to drift off to sleep.


	23. Burdened with Glorious Fur

Tony woke and stretched, then paused as he became aware of a something lying across his ankles again. He sat partially upright, weight on his elbows, blinking to clear the grit out of his eyes, then stared, stunned silent for a moment. A wide grin abruptly crossed his face, and he laughed, dropping flat again.

Loki gave an annoyed yap, then rose to his feet and walked up Tony's legs to stand perched on his stomach, giving the laughing man an irritated look. Tony finally managed to stop laughing and catch his breath. "A Pomeranian? _Seriously_, Loki?" he managed to ask, then started laughing again.

The dog snorted air out through its nose, then plumped his hindquarters down and sat there glaring at Tony. Tony covered his eyes with one hand and sputtered, trying to get himself back under control. "Sorry, Toto, but the death glare really doesn't work well when you're so tiny and... and freakin' adorably cute and fluffy, okay?"

Loki started to growl, then yelped in surprise as Tony abruptly rolled upright, effortlessly scooping the dog up in both hands as he rose. "Have you even seen yourself? You need to see yourself, right away," he said, and walked over to stand in front of the full length mirror in one corner of the room, grinning at their reflection in the mirror; himself, barefoot and dressed in red sleep pants hanging low on his hips, with some pretty serious bed-head going on, and cradled in front of him, a sharp-nosed puffball of fluffy fur in shades of apricot and cream, with darker markings on his face and the tips of his ears.

Loki went very still, just staring at his own reflection, then sneezed and whined, and licked his lips nervously. Tony smiled, still amused, and tucked Loki under one arm, one hand cupped to support his chest, scratching at the dog's chin and ears with the other hand and smiling down at him in amusement. "I gotta say, it's an interesting look on you. I'd never have picked you as the Pomeranian type," he said. "That Schipper-whatsit you were before was kind of fluffy too, but this... this is _adorable._"

Loki growled, and snapped at Tony's hand. Tony quickly pulled it back, then glared at the dog and shook one finger at him. "Hey! None of that. I'll send out for a dog-crate and order you to stay in it if I have to."

Loki stared at him silently for a long moment, but the look on Tony's face didn't waver. Finally Loki gave in, ears dropping slightly and looking away from Tony. Tony gently brushed his hand over Loki's head again. "I'll try not to laugh at you, no one likes being laughed at, but come on, look at yourself... it's pretty amusing, isn't it? Loki, Prince of Asgard... burdened with glorious fur."

Loki growled a little again, giving Tony another ears-back look, but refrained from snapping that time, which Tony decided was good enough. He put the dog back down on the floor, then started digging out his clothing for the day. "Where is everyone, Jarvis?"

"_Agent Coulson and Mr Barton are at SHIELD Headquarters this morning. Dr Banner has gone out for breakfast, and Ms Romanov is still in her quarters. Captain Rogers is in your kitchen cooking breakfast for three._"

"Sweet," Tony said, and hurriedly pulled on clean underwear, socks, and blue jeans, then ducked into the washroom long enough to change the dressing on his arm again, frowning at the gouge. It had scabbed over reasonably well and partially healed over the last couple of days while he was holed up in his lab, but part of it was tender to the touch still, the skin reddened around it. Maybe he should have Bruce take a look at it later. For now he smeared it with more antiseptic cream and wrapped it with a fresh length of gauze, then returned to his room and pulled on a long-sleeved red silk shirt and black sneakers before heading downstairs to his kitchen, Loki trotting along at heel.

He could smell breakfast even before he reached the bottom of the stairs, something involving eggs, onions, bacon, and toast. "Morning, Steve," he called as he crossed the living room and leaned into his kitchen. It wasn't as big as the one off of the common room had been, but it was larger and more well-appointed then the ones on the personal floors of the other Avengers.

Steve looked up from where he was stirring a big pan full of scrambled eggs and smiled warmly back at him. "Morning, Tony," he said, and then his eyes dropped and widened slightly as he caught sight of Loki. "Holy cow."

Tony grinned. "Not too far off my own reaction," he said. "I should warn you though, he's not amused by our amusement."

Steve smiled. "I can understand that," he said, then turned back to his frying pan. "Jarvis, tell Natasha she better be here in two more minutes or her eggs will be getting cold."

"_Ms Romanov is already in the elevator on her way up, Steve._"

"Excellent. You mind starting the coffee drip, Tony? It's all set up already."

"Of course," Tony said, sliding past him to get to the far end of the counter and hitting the switch. As the maker began gurgling, Tony got out mugs, plates and cutlery and started setting the table. Natasha swept into the kitchen, and paused in the doorway to smile at Steve and Tony. "I do like mornings like this," she said. "A pair of handsome men hurrying to serve me."

Tony laughed. "Just don't count on it as a regular thing, I'm not the servile type."

Natasha smiled. "No, you're pretty far from that, Stark," she agreed, then came to an abrupt stop, staring downwards. "Is that...?"

"Loki? Yes. Fluffy, isn't he?"

Natasha grinned, looking delighted, then went down on one knee, holding out her hand and actually _cooing_ in Russian. Loki immediately trotted over to her, claws tic-tacing across the floor, and nuzzled at her hand. Natasha scratched his ears briefly before rising back to her feet, then pointed her finger down at him. "Use your cuteness for evil, Loki, and you and I will have _words_," she told him, which made Tony cackle and Steve grin.

They were soon all settled down to eat, the three Avengers at the table, while Loki had a plateful of the same food on the floor, the toast cut up into bite-size bits.

"Dibs on walking Loki," Steve said before biting into a strip of bacon, one eyebrow lifting slightly.

"No fair, I was looking forward to doing that," Tony said, pouting slightly.

"As loathe as I am to dissuade you from any form of exercise, Tony, you've had him since before the attack," Natasha pointed out. "Let others take a turn."

"I exercise!"

"Not enough, and not lately," Steve said, and frowned at him. "Tell you what, if you're so enthusiastic about walking him, you can join him and me both on my run later."

"Errr... no, no. I think I'm good. You go ahead and enjoy your run. Masochist."

"In that case you should go work out in the gym for a while instead," Steve said, then glanced at Natasha. "Let me know if he doesn't."

"Since when are you the boss of me, Steve?"

"Since all of you decided I was the team leader. You're going to get flabby if you don't work out more. Now, you can spend an hour in the gym doing exercise, or come on a run with me, or I'll have to explain to Pepper that you're sliding on the physical fitness part of your role with the Avengers."

"Ow! Low blow. Okay, _fine_, an hour in the gym."

"An hour in the gym _exercising_," Steve stressed.

"Are you hinting that I'd weasel-word my way out of exercising? Steve! I am shocked, shocked I tell you!"

Steve grinned crookedly. "Like I didn't have enough experience with rules lawyers back in the army. Exercise for an hour, Stark, or you'll be sparring with me for a couple hours when I get back. Which neither of us will be happy about, since I have plans for later."

Tony snorted, then resumed eating his breakfast. "I sometimes question why I let all of you move in with me. So pushy."

Natasha glanced up, and smiled. "We like you too, Tony."

"Yeah, we do," Steve agreed, smiling at him as well.

"Gah, are you trying to put me off my breakfast? Bunch of Pollyannas... no, worse, you're all Care-Bears. Don't trying convincing me of the power of warm hugs or anything like that though, or I swear I'll go to the dark side and help Wizard No Heart here to defeat you all," he said, gesturing at Loki with his fork.

"Wizard No Heart?" Steve asked, confused.

"The villain from some old children's cartoon that I can see I'll need to make you watch an episode or two of," Tony told him. "Could change into different animals and was interested in world domination."

Steve and Natasha both looked down at Loki, who looked back with lifted ears.

"It fits," Natasha agreed with a small shrug, then looked at Tony. "Try not to disappear back into your lab as soon as breakfast is over, Pepper called to say there's a courier coming over with more papers for you to sign this morning and that if they're not signed by noon she will be very, very disappointed."

"What? Why is she calling you about it? You're not my PA any more. Or my Mom."

"Because they're important enough that she's delegated me to twist your arm behind your back if you try and weasel out of signing them, Stark. Though if it comes to me having to get physical with you for you to sign them, I promise you it will involve something much, much worse than merely twisting your arm. Understand?"

"Err... right. I'll just... just go watch TV until the papers show up, yes? And then sign everything like a good little boy."

"A wise choice," Natasha said calmly. "Jarvis, be a dear and let me know when the courier arrives, will you?"

"_Of course, Ms Romanov._"

* * *

Loki waited patiently while Steve found a collar that would fit Loki – several of them having apparently been salvaged from the rubble on the common level – and changed into his jogging suit and runners, before leading the way down out of the building. They walked north to Central Park, where Steve stopped and did some warm-up stretches before beginning his run.

Loki had to admit he enjoyed going running with Steve. He'd never much cared for physical pursuits, certainly not the sort of intense workouts that Thor and the other warriors of Asgard regularly indulged in, but he'd always kept himself in shape, and these canine forms certainly enjoyed running. The instinct for it seemed stronger in some forms than in others – the first dog form he'd taken had felt like it _lived_ for running, when it wasn't sprawled out somewhere resting – but in all forms it was enjoyable. Though keeping up with Steve's long legs was harder in some forms than in others, and particularly difficult in this tiny shape. By the time Steve slowed to take his first walking break, Loki was already out of breath with the effort of maintaining pace with him.

Steve frowned down at him in concern, then came to a stop and crouched down, rubbing his hand soothing across Loki's head and down his back. "Sorry, I should have realized... I'll run a little slower on the next lap, okay?"

Loki sneezed, then licked once at his hand. Steve smiled, and patted Loki's head again before standing up and continuing. Loki shook his fur out, and trotted along at heel, trying not to feel ridiculously pleased about Steve's friendliness with him. It was hard; this form _wanted_ people to like it. Besides, it surely doesn't mean anything special; Steve is friendly with everyone, nodding or calling out in greeting to the other joggers that he's used to seeing at this hour, even stopping once or twice to exchange words with ones he's especially friendly with. Loki growled and switched ends a couple of times as the dog of one makes a particularly strong effort to stick its nose in places Loki feels are none of its business. He had begun considering whether he was going to have to bite the other dog to drive it away when Steve scooped him up and held him, well above reach of the invasive hound.

"Sorry," Steve said to the dog's owner. "He doesn't play well with others."

She smiled warmly up at Steve. "That's all right. He's a gorgeous little thing; what's his name?"

"Uh, Loki."

She looked surprised. "Isn't that the same name as that borzoi you had a couple weeks ago?"

"Yeah, it was... weird coincidence, huh?"

She smiled again. "I dunno, some dog owners are remarkably uninventive. I run into dogs with the same names all the time. Well, usually not with the same owner though."

"Oh! I don't own him; the dogs, they're, uh... we're giving them shelter."

"Oh, you foster?" she asked, face lighting up. "An ex-girlfriend of mine did that, except with cats. Kept them in the spare bedroom; usually mothers with kittens, but a couple of times it was sick or injured cats. That's wonderful; so is this guy with you because he was sick, or due to behavioural problems?"

"Behaviour problems," Steve said firmly.

She smiled again. "Well, I hope he gets past them and ends up in a good forever home. And I better get a move on, or I'm going to be late for work. See you around, Steve."

"Later, Tisha."

Steve put Loki back down and they continued on their run. Even at a slower pace Loki was feeling pretty winded long by the time they'd finished their next lap. Steve frowned down at him, then picked him up again. "I think we'll skip the third lap for today," he said, and set out back to the tower.

Loki squirmed around, not liking being carried under Steve's arm, until they found a position they could compromise on, Steve's arm supporting Loki's hindquarters while Loki rested his head and forepaws on Steve's shoulder. It was a good position for having his back stroked, and he was almost bonelessly limp against Steve's chest by the time they reached the tower and returned to Tony's quarters.

Tony was seated on the couch, leaning forward to work his way through a stack of folders on the coffee table, Natasha sitting nearby sipping a glass of juice and watching him. They both looked up and smiled at Steve as he carried Loki in and set him down on the floor.

"I need to shower and change," Steve told Natasha.

She nodded. "Half an hour?"

"Sure," Steve said, and headed back downstairs to his own floor.

Tony looked up from his signing, and frowned at Natasha, then abruptly pointed his pen at her. "Are you Steve's plans for later? You are, aren't you! Are you two _dating!?_" He looked and sounded delighted by the time he finished speaking, a wide grin on his face.

Natasha gave Tony a look, then gave a minimal shrug, settling back in her chair. "Yes, I am, and none of your business, Stark. Finish signing those, and if you're not done by the time Steve gets back up here, I will _not_ be happy."

"Yes ma'am," Tony said, and quickly went back to signing, though the grin stayed on his face. Loki went over and jumped up on the couch beside him, then wormed his head under Tony's arm to rest on his thigh, sighing and relaxing again, letting his eyes half-close in comfort. For a while the only sounds in the room were the scratch of Tony's pen on paper and the flipping of pages, until he finally slapped his pen down on the table and leaned back, one hand immediately moving to scratch Loki's ears. "There! All done, and still no Cap. We good?"

Natasha smiled. "Good enough," she agreed, and rose to her feet, gathering up the stacked folders full of signed papers and fitting them back into a large document box. "I'll drop these off in the offices downstairs on my way out," she said.

"Thanks, Natasha," Tony said. "You're a sweetheart, and my favourite female Avenger."

Natasha, being the only female Avenger, gave him the look that deserved. The elevator arrived just then, letting off Bruce, while Steve leaned out the door of it, smiling, and waited for Natasha to walk over and join him.

"They are _so_ dating," Tony crowed to Bruce. "I'm sure of it. So, feel like going down to your lab and doing science together?"

"We could, though Dr Foster is on her way over, so you might want to make it your lab instead."

"Oooo, science play-date with Jane! Sweet! Yes, my lab would be better," Tony exclaimed as he rose to his feet, then paused and frowned down at Loki. "_You_ stay here; you can have the run of my quarters."

Loki stood and watched as the two men disappeared into the elevator as well, surprised and disappointed not to be taken along to the lab with them. His ears and tails drooped, and he had to fight off the urge to whine.

This was a useful opportunity, he told himself sternly. Run of Stark's quarters... he'd explore as thoroughly as this form allowed. Surely the knowledge would come in useful later.


	24. Plastic Minds

Tony, Bruce and Jane stood around a monitor, watching as Loki wandered around exploring Tony's penthouse. He'd made his way down the internal staircase to the lowest level, and was currently nosing around in Tony's rec room, sticking his nose and sniffing interestedly under the beaten up old plaid couch (a relic of Tony's college days) before wandering in circles around the pool table and vintage pinball machines, looking them over curiously.

"He's not what I expected," Jane said thoughtfully.

"He's a Pomeranian, I don't think any of us ever expected that," Tony pointed out, then smiled at Darcy as she poured a refill into his coffee cup and handed Jane a square of dark chocolate.

"Not physically, I mean mentally," Jane said, and shifted to rest one hip on the workbench before popping the square of chocolate into her mouth, after which she waved at a second monitor off to the side, which was split into multiple windows showing earlier recordings of Loki since he's first arrived at the tower, as well as a large chart documenting his internet surfing habits. "From what little Thor's told me about Loki, he's never been particularly interested in the other realms – other from Asgard's point of view, not ours – unless they had some magic he was interested in learning of. Suddenly here he is, devouring everything he can about our history, cultures, technological development... Even a damned big chunk of our literature," she added, pointing out the Project Gutenberg usage statistics, among other sites.

"Know thy enemy," Bruce said.

"Maybe, but maybe not. I think he might have gotten curious about us. Midgard is _different_ than most of the nine realms."

"Different how?" Tony asked.

"Much less limited, for one," Jane explained. "Most of the other realms are limited in either area or beings, for assorted reasons; three of them were originally part of the same... planet, for want of a better word, as Asgard, though you need to imagine something more like Pratchett's Discworld minus the elephants and turtle than a ball of molten-cored rock like earth is; a flat world. Anyway, it broke apart, Thor's never explained just how or why to me, and the four fragments that survived became Asgard, Vanaheim, Alfheim, and Nidavellir. So those are all pretty smallish worlds, by our standards, and can only carry small populations. All of Asgard is only about the size of Long Island, and the people there measure their lifespans in centuries, not years. They've got a very small, very stable population overall, and their culture changes very slowly. The Vanir are pretty much the same race, so they also have that long-lived thing going on, as do the light elves of Alfheim. The dwarves of Nidavellir aren't as long-lived, they're somewhere between us and the Aesir in longevity, but they also have a small, slow-changing population, even if they're also the most technologically inclined of the non-human races, at least as we understand technology."

"And the other worlds?" Bruce asked, sounding fascinated.

"Well, there's Jotunheim, the world of the frost giants, which is pretty thoroughly glaciated, while Muspelheim, the world of fire demons, is very actively volcanic. Neither supports a large population; life just doesn't do very well in such extremes of climate, they have very limited ecosystems and substantially reduced carrying capacity as a result. Svartalfheim is the home of the dark elves; also long-lived, plus their planet has been a battlefield many times, rendering large areas of it essentially barren and uninhabitable, so between deaths in battle tending to outnumber births and, again, reduced carrying capacity, they've got a pretty small population for the size of their world, though they're still the second-most populous of the nine realms; earth-sized planet, maybe one billion people at an outside guess, as far as I could estimate from Thor's descriptions. And finally there's Niffleheim, a very dark and cold planet, which if I tell you it's the place that the other races consider to be their equivalent of Hell, and where they believe their dishonoured dead end up, well, you can guess how unpleasant of a place it is. And then... there's us."

"With a temperate climate, and over seven billion people living lives that are freakishly short compared to ever other planet in the nine realms," Tony said slowly, crossing his arms,

"Exactly," Jane said approvingly, accepting another piece of chocolate from Darcy, who also handed Bruce a cup of tea. "But as well as living crazy-short lives, we also _change_ crazily-fast, by their standards. Loki's been alive for just over a thousand years; think of all the changes we've gone through in that time, how the borders of our countries have ebbed and flowed, how many king, queens, presidents and so on have ruled, how many wars there's been. How much our technology has evolved in that time. And then imagine where Loki comes from, where in that same millenia his father has _always_ been the king, where only a few hundred people at most have died or been born, where things are almost exactly the same now as they were on the day Odin carried the infant him home from battle, unchanged right down to the position of the knick-knacks on the shelves."

"Imagine the culture shock," Bruce said slowly, who Tony knew had had a lot of personal experience with the phenomenon.

"Like going from the ultimate unchanging small town where everyone knows everyone and all their business, to Tokyo on a busy day," Tony said thoughtfully.

"_Exactly,_" Jane said again, and smiled approvingly at the two of them.

"I wonder if he even realized how big this planet is, how many people we have. How damned near impossible conquering the whole lot of us would be, even with his alien playmates along to help out," Tony said.

"Intellectually, logically, maybe," Jane said. "But emotionally? No. But now he's stuck here, and has the world wide web at his fingertips, and he may finally be getting an idea of just how big a bite he was attempting to take before."

"And this is mentally different than what you expected... why?" Tony asked.

"Because Thor's approach to the differences between Asgard and Midgard has been, largely, to ignore it. He only deals with the people and places directly around him; he doesn't delve into our history, isn't particularly interested in our culture, learns only the absolute bare minimum that he needs to of our technology. From what I've seen of him and the few other Aesir I've encountered, they're largely incapable of dealing with the change in perceptions needed to understand our culture and how fast it changes, where there's noticeable differences in even a single year, major shifts over a decade, and our culture today is largely unrecognizable compared to what it was even a century ago, much less comparisons over larger time scales. So they tune it out instead, they dismiss it and don't even try to make sense of it. Loki, on the other hand... I think he _gets_ it. He's able to make that perceptual shift, he's trying to understand us, he's able to see that we're extremely _different_ than what the Aesir and the other races out there are used to, and that different doesn't mean lesser. He's still capable of learning from and about us."

"Like how he's already a wiz at using the interface to Jarvis that Tony cooked up for him, while Thor can just barely manage to toast pop-tarts reliably and use the stove with close supervision," Bruce said.

"Yes," Jane agreed. "I believe from what you've shown me that Loki's still adaptable, where most Aesir are not. I wonder if it's at all like human brain development, and how babies and toddlers have the most malleable brains, they are literally sponges for language and knowledge the first two or three years of their life, and then that ability to learn easily usually fades over the years. Maybe the long lives of the Aesir have the side effect of them eventually pretty much losing the ability to easily learn new things, especially since their normal environment is so static that there's very little new things for them to ever have to learn over the course of their lives."

"Could be," Bruce said. "People who continue learning and trying out new things throughout their lives reportedly have a more plastic brain right up until old age gets them, anyway."

"Right. And, really, seeing as Loki isn't even the same race as Thor, there isn't any way to know offhand if this more noticeable adaptability of his is related to his being a Jotun, or is something particular to Loki himself."

"Interesting," Tony said. "But is there any way in which this is useful to us? To keep him contained, I mean."

"Well, mainly just that you shouldn't underestimate him; don't try and extrapolate how fast he'll learn or how he'll react to a situation based on Thor. Loki learns very quickly; he adapts. Even as a seemingly benign animal he's likely a lot more dangerous than he looks. But he's also interested in knowledge, even just for its own sake, and on that line I think giving him net access may have been one of the smartest decisions you made; it gives him something to do, and even at the rate he takes in information... Have you noticed he's never followed the same keyword link on Wikipedia twice? I think he may have eidetic memory; once he's read the information behind a given keyword he never needs to look it up a second time. It's kind of frighteningly awesome, the rate at which he can learn."

They all turned and looked silently at the main monitor again, where Loki had moved on from the rec room into a larger tiled space, with varying degrees of thoughtfulness.

"Oh my god, you have a _swimming pool_ in your penthouse!?" Jane exclaimed, immediately distracted.

"Just a small one," Tony said, grinning. "Calculating the weight distribution was a stone cold bi... witch. Until I gave up and just had Jarvis do it, he's better at structural stuff than I am, though Pep insisted we run the final plans by a real structural engineer that wasn't me before building it, which I thought was very hurtful of her. Also, I decided against making it an infinity pool open to the sky, coolness factor was a solid 10 but safety would have only been about a 5 or 6 given winds at this height, and it's too cold here too much of the year so useability would have been, like, a 3. You want a swim later?"

"If she says no I'm using my veto to override her and say yes," Darcy said, crowding in to get a better look at the monitor and the pool room, and handing Jane a mug of coffee and another chocolate square.

"We don't have swimsuits here, Darcy," Jane pointed out, before sipping at her drink

"I bet Tony does," Darcy said, lifting an eyebrow at him.

Tony grinned. "If I don't, I'll send out for some, or we can go shopping. It'll be fun, we can have a pool party this afternoon and do barbeque for supper. It's one kind of cooking I'm actually reasonably decent at. I blame Rhodey for that, he gave me a barbecue as a house-warming present when I first moved into the Malibu mansion. After I learned how not to set the meat on fire I got kind of good with it."

"Bitching," Darcy said, sounding and looking pleased.

"Now that our plans for later this afternoon have been ironed out, how about we get back to the real reason for this little gathering," Bruce interjected, sounding bored but with a definite amused gleam to his eyes and a slight smile.

"Right, sensors," Tony said. "Unfortunately the little mishap a few days ago pretty much trashed all the sensors we had set up to monitor Loki in hopes of being able to detect his mojo at work whenever he shape-shifted. Not that they ever picked up a damned thing, though we did get some nice readings off of them when the Doombots attacked that may be of use in the future against any further appearances by them."

"Doombots?" Darcy asked.

"Robots apparently sent after us by some guy in a cape who calls himself Dr Doom. Hence, Doombots," Tony explained.

"No capes," Jane and Darcy said emphatically and damn near in stereo, both in surprisingly good imitations of Edna Mode's voice.

Tony grinned. "I _like_ you two," he said, then looked at Bruce. "Think I can keep them? I could tell Coulson they followed me home..."

"No, Tony. Tony, no," Bruce said tiredly. "No making Dr Foster's connection to the Avengers any more obvious than strictly necessary."

"Bah, you're no fun," Tony groused, then turned back to Jane and smiled. "_Anyway_... I know enough to know that the equipment you've kludged together for your own research is detecting stuff that pretty much nothing else we've got can even begin to sense. So, I was hoping you might have suggestions for additional sensors _we_ could throw together to try and pin down Loki's magic; somehow detect the energy it employs."

"My equipment isn't kludges," Jane said, looking slightly annoyed.

"You forget I've seen them. Well, pictures of them, seeing as you're a cruel person and wouldn't let me into your lab. They're certainly very unique machines, but come on, you're no electrical engineer. You used paperclips to hold shut some of the casings! Paperclips and duct tape! I wouldn't be surprised to find chewing gum keeping important bits together."

Jane and Darcy exchanged a guilty look.

"I _knew_ it! Okay, yes, your equipment works, which is some kind of crazy god-damned miracle, but I can do better if you'll just _let me_. You know I have no reason to want to scoop your research, it's totally out of my field, I won't be using your knowledge to try and duplicate your own results or beat you to the scientific punch or anything like that. Let me help. I can help. I can build new stuff for you, just let me see your old stuff, and explain to me how you think it works."

Jane frowned and gave him a thoughtful look. "I'll consider it," she said reluctantly after a minute or two.

"Yes!" Tony crowed, holding both hands up in the air in a victory sign.

"That's not a yes," Jane told him.

"But it will be. It wasn't a no, so it will be a yes."

"You know there's a bad name for guys who think like that, right?" Darcy asked, refilling his mug again.

"Ow! That was... that wasn't the sort of thing I meant at all. Okay, maybe in the past I might have been overly persistent a time or two. Or three. Okay, _fine_, so a maybe is neither a no nor a yes. Can I at least hope that it _will be_ a yes and I get to build all the fun toys for you? Pretty please?"

"You're ridiculous," Jane told him, but one corner of her lips twitched upwards slightly in an amused smile, and Tony beamed.

"Yes, yes I am. I know this about myself. I am ridiculous. Are you guys hungry yet? I haven't had lunch. Let me take you all out to lunch. Or we could order in. Whatever you like."

"You realize he's going to be like this until you at least let him see your equipment in person, right?" Bruce asked, sounding tired and amused.

"I'm beginning to get that impression, yes," Jane said, eyeing Tony as if he was an interesting waveform of dubious origin. "Lunch would be good."

"And then shopping," Darcy said.

"You just like me for my credit cards," Tony told her, pouting slightly.

"Nah, I like you because you're fun," Darcy assured him. "The shopping on your tab is just an extra-fun bonus."

* * *

Loki looked up from eviscerating a cushion when the elevator chimed, and Tony, Bruce, and two women spilled out of it, all but Bruce talking and laughing – though Bruce was smiling widely – Tony loaded down with shopping bags. Loki stared, then leapt to his feet and began yapping angrily as he recognized one of the women; Dr Jane Foster, Thor's mortal wench.

"_Oh my god_, he's so adorable," the other woman exclaimed, and hurried over towards him, dropping down to one knee and holding out her hand. Loki froze, staring at her, and growled warningly.

"Err, careful Darcy, that didn't sounds like friendly barking," Bruce said, taking a step after her.

"Of course it wasn't, Pomeranians are territorial little shits and we're with his person and in his space," she said, but kept her hand held out toward him and made a weird little chirping sound with her lips. He stared a little longer, then gave in to instincts and cautiously leaned forward to sniff at her hand. She smelled like outside and food, and he started licking her hand, tasting traces of chicken and grease on her fingers.

She smiled, and her other long-nailed hand reached out to sink into the thick fur back of his ear and started scratching in just exactly the right way to make him sit down abruptly, one of his hind legs making spastic little scratching motions in time with the movement of her fingers. He whined, craning his head into her touch. And then, as her other hand joined the first,stroking along his back and side, he found himself flopping down, rolling over and letting her scratch his belly.

"Darcy, _you_ are a dog whisper. Why didn't I know this about you?" Tony asked as he came and stood at Darcy's shoulder, looking down at Loki wiggling around on the floor, and grinning in amusement.

Darcy smiled up at him. "My grandmother had Poms. Like, the bred them kind of had them. I learned how to lull them at an early age. They can be _really_ pushy if you let them think that they're the alpha."

Tony was frowning around the room, taking in the several disemboweled cushions spilling out stuffing across the floor of the seating area. "Destructive little guys too, I see."

To Loki's disappointment Darcy left off scratching him to rise to her feet and look around the room. She sighed and shook her head. "Separation anxiety," she said firmly, then removed most of the shopping bags from Tony, redistributing them between herself and Jane. "Where can Jane and I change?"

"Oh, take the guest bedroom... that way," he said, gesturing absently towards the stairs, frowning down at Loki. "Top of the stairs, on the left," he called after them as the two women moved away.

"I'm, uh... I'm going down to my floor," Bruce said hesitantly.

Tony immediately stopped staring at Loki and turned to look at the other scientist. "You're not abandoning me, are you? Not that I'd normally have any problem with keeping two beautiful bikini-clad women company all on my own, but _science!_ And I grill a mean burger. Though just for you I'll make it a veggie-patty of zen-like calm, yes?"

Bruce smiled, looking amused. "I need to change into my swimming trunks. Those are in my bedroom, on my floor," he assured Tony.

"Oh, good. Oh, hey, and I should text the rest of the team to see they know that there's a pool party and they're all invited. Jarvis, would you take care of that for me, pretty please?"

"_Of course, sir. Might I suggest you tidy up slightly before any additional guests arrive?_"

"What, you don't want them to see the place when it's not looking it's best? They all live here, Jarv, I'm pretty sure they know it can get a little messy around here."

"_I am certain that there's a difference between a room that's been trashed by a battle with armed robots, and one that is messy because of you not cleaning up after the dog, sir,_" Jarvis said frostily. Bruce laughed before disappearing into the elevator.

Tony rolled his eyes, then started gathering up torn-apart cushions. "Fine, I'll tidy a little. Satisfied?"

"_Of course, sir._"

Tony snorted, then frowned again at Loki, shaking one of the cushions at him. "Separation anxiety my ass. You just like being destructive."

Loki purposefully made the most piteous expression he could, and whined.

"Oh, for the love of... not the puppy eyes! It is totally unfair how heartbroken you look right now," Tony said, then tossed the cushions aside onto one of the couches and sat down on the floor, dragging one of the remaining shopping bags close and digging around in it. "Look, if I feed you some of my leftover chicken strips will you stop looking at me that way? You're making me feel like a school yard bully, when you're the one who should be feeling bad. You don't want to know how much those throw cushions cost me. Well, cost Pepper when she was decorating the place, except it was all on my card anyway so it still cost me."

The leftovers smelled delicious. Loki sidled closer and allowed Tony to feed him.


	25. Pool Parties and Sleepovers

Tony leaned back on the edge of the pool, a drink in hand and his legs dangling in the water, and smiled. Everyone had shown up for the party, even Coulson, who'd rolled in wearing long trunks and a float jacket, and actually blushed when Steve helped Clint to get him out of his chair and into the pool. Aqua therapy was apparently part of his regular fitness routine, and he appeared to be enjoying his little excursion, though both Clint and Natasha were keeping a close eye on him as if worried about unexpected tidal waves, sharks, ninjas, or wormholes to another dimension appearing in the pool. Tony made mental note to give Phil free run of the pool any time he wanted to make use of it, it had to be better than whatever facility he was using at SHIELD. Also, closer, since it was right here. Plus it was kind of silly to have the thing here when it almost never got used, Tony not having much of an appetite for swimming on his own since Afghanistan.

Though a gathering like this... this, he rather liked, he thought, and looked over to where Bruce was treading water in the deep end of the pool. Jane was hanging off the edge of the pool near Bruce, the two of them talking with the sort of intent expressions that make Tony suspect he might be missing out on some serious science talk, but he was feeling too comfortable where he was to want to move and join them.

Steve was over in the shallows, lurking vaguely-near Natasha, and looking charmingly self-conscious about sharing the pool with all of them; Tony suspected it had as much to do with the criminally tiny purple speedo Clint was wearing as the bikinis Jane and Darcy were in, not to mention Natasha's backless one-piece. Jane somehow managed to look both sexy and innocent in her tiny scraps of white fabric, while Darcy's rather more substantial polka-dotted navy blue two-piece seemed to be Steve's kryptonite; he flushed and looked away every time his eyes ended up on her. That's didn't appear to be working too well for him since it tended to turn his eyes towards either Jane or Natasha instead, though he generally managed to look at them for longer and with less flush. Tony was trying to figure out why it was her outfit, out of all of them, that seemed to most bother the good captain.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Darcy asked, dropping down to sit beside him. She dangled her own feet in the water, swishing them back and forth in time with the music that was playing.

"Zaftig," Tony said, unthinkingly, and then grinned and pointedly leered at Darcy. "Or at least curvaceous. I've got it."

"Got what? Good eyesight?" Darcy asked, and rolled her eyes slightly at him.

"No, I just figured out why Steve reddens like a ripe tomato every time you cross his field of sight. That... that swimsuit. Very retro, as is the figure it's so admirably hugging. As in, the standards of female beauty in the 40s were a little different than they are today, and in that get-up you probably resemble every movie star, chorus girl and pin-up poster that ever gave Steve impure thoughts before he ended up on ice."

Darcy laughed and then smiled at him. "You sometimes say the sweetest things. You're probably right though, all of this might be pushing some buttons of his. Man, that's kind of cool... me, possibly giving wood to Captain America."

"An honour and a privilege, right?"

"Hey, it's like I'm living the dream. Speaking of, that was a low blow, showing Jane the lab space she could have if she moved here. Already partially equipped, even. Sneaky bastard!"

"The sneakiest. Though seriously, apart from the occasional malevolent invasion this is probably the safest place she could stay, short of secretly being whisked off to Norway again. Or somewhere even worse. It'll make it so much easier for Bruce and I to work with her, too. And feed her. And make her things."

Darcy smiled again. "I swear, you're like some strange reverse version of a kid on Christmas morning. Instead of getting all excited over what great things might be in your own boxes, you're way too interested in giving things to other people and hoping they like it."

"I know, Pepper tells me I come on too strong with that sometimes. A lot. Most of the time. That there are other ways to show people I like them and hope they like me than to shower them with gifts."

Darcy smiled. "I dunno, personally I think it's kind of sweet," she said, and leaned over to kiss his cheek before suddenly bouncing to her feet and running toward the line of recliners along the inside wall of the room. "Loki puppy! Time for a swim!" she exclaimed, scooping the dog up from where he'd apparently been crouched under one, watching them. She hurried back to the pool, ignore Loki's yips and struggles, and jumped into the shallow end near the others.

"Darcy! No drowning Loki! Thor would not approve!" Jane called from the far end of the pool, looking concerned.

"Not drowning him, just letting him swim," Darcy called back, as she lowered Loki into the water, cupping one hand under his belly but otherwise leaving him unsupported. His eyes were wide and frightened for a moment, and he thrashed around, then his legs seemed to get the right rhythm going for a basic dog-paddle. Darcy beamed at him, turning so as to keep him supported as he swam in circles around her.

Tony grinned. "You better be recording this, Jarvis, or I will be extremely disappointed."

"_Yes, sir._"

* * *

Tony sat up in bed with a choked scream, heart feeling like it was trying to beat its way out of his chest. He startled as he realized there was something in the room with him, sound and motion of something scrambling away from him. The faint lighting that was always on in any room he slept in – at least any room that was part of his own properties – was already slowly increasing, while soft music had begun to play, part of several protocols Jarvis knew to follow any time Tony woke up from a nightmare. The sound and motion was revealed as a Pomeranian, and it was a sign of how rattled he was by his flashback that he just sat and stared at it for half a minute before finally remembering that the reason there was a dog in his room, on his bed, was Loki.

His hands were trembling; he clenched them tightly, letting out an explosion of breath, then ground the heels of his palms into his eyes for a moment, wishing away the memories of darkness, the dusty scent of stone, a large metal tank full of water with a faint skim of oil on it, the light of a lone, too-bright bare bulb reflecting off its disturbed surface, the harsh light turning the cave and the men crowded around him into a chiaroscuro scene rendered mostly in black. He forced himself to breath in and out, aiming for slow but mostly settling for a stuttering series of sudden inhales and shaky exhales. After a couple minutes Loki crept closer to him, and he sat there petting the dog, trying to pace his breathing to the slow stroke of his hand down Loki's neck and back.

"Enough, Jarvis," he said once his breathing had finally settled. "Don't think I'm getting back to sleep after that one," he added as the music faded back to silence, then slowly got up from the bed, feeling every one of his forty-plus years.

Remembering that he had guests, he pulled on a robe before leaving his room and heading downstairs. The pool party had run late into the evening, eventually devolving into just him, Bruce and Jane sitting in his kitchen discussing particle physics while Darcy made sure they stayed hydrated and fed them leftovers from the barbecue, after which Jane and Darcy had opted for the bed in his guest bedroom over a long drive back to their own homes. He smiled slightly, remembering Darcy informing him that she had her taser and would use it if any random Tony Starks showed up in their bedroom. Not that he would, of course, neither of them were that kind of guest, he wasn't so drunk as to forget where his own bed was, and besides, Thor would have turned him into paste is he tried anything with Thor's main squeeze. He'd have needed even more alcohol than it took to forget where his bedroom was to forget that particular barn-door sized fact.

He was standing with the fridge door open, unable to remember what he'd opened it for, and watching Loki sniffing curiously at the contents of the bottom shelf, when someone cleared their throat right behind him. He yelped and spun, putting his back to the cupboards beside the fridge. "_Fuck_, Darcy, don't ever sneak up on me like that again. What are you even doing up at this hour, anyway?" he asked, frowning at her. She was wearing a borrowed set of his own pyjamas, sleep wear not having been among the things that the ladies had either brought with them or purchased during their impromptu shopping spree earlier that day. Or rather, a pair of his pyjama pants paired with one of his long-sleeved knit shirts, which looked considerably better on her than it ever had on him, he decided, and in a most thoroughly distracting way.

Darcy just shrugged, crossing her arms. "Couldn't sleep. Jane is kind of a bed hog, and she snores. Also I maybe should have switched to decaf earlier in the day. Kind of a little wired right now. What's your excuse?"

"Ah. Nightmares," he admitted as he closed the fridge door. "Not the kind I can go right back to sleep after having, unless I want extra servings of them. Care to join me in some late-night TV?"

Darcy smiled. "Sure, sounds like fun. Actual TV, or like, infomercials? Or are you thinking movie?"

"I dunno. Lady's choice?" he asked, led the way to the seating area, dropping down to sit in the middle of the couch.

She laughed, and sat down beside him, folding one leg under her and leaning against the arm of it. "I think no to the infomercials, you have to be in the right frame of mind to enjoy those and I'd need to be drunk for that. Or stoned. Maybe some TV, if there's anything good on."

"Jarvis has all the channels in the world. We can watch pretty much anything you want to."

"Even if I said something like Brazilian game shows?"

"Yup, anything."

"Cool. Though since I don't speak Portuguese maybe something less exotic would be best. Actually a movie of some kind would be nice."

"What are you thinking? Action movie? Comedy? Chick flick? Something animated?"

"And if I say chick flick?"

"I am totally down with that. I am confident enough in my manhood to not think that watching a movie with a moderately cheesy plot featuring actual character development and maybe some romance will emasculate me."

Darcy slowly smiled. "All right then. Though if we're going to do this we're going to do this right. I require snacks and a sugary beverage, though I think we should probably stick to the kind that doesn't include alcohol," she said, and rose to her feet, stepping over the back of the couch and heading back to the kitchen. Tony followed, then leaned against the counter and watched while she poked around in his fridge and cupboards, making excited little sounds to herself as she hauled vanilla ice cream and juice out of the fridge, and a variety of crackers, cookies, and spreads out of the cupboards.

"What are you making?" he asked as she scooped the ice cream into the blender until it was almost full, and then drowned it in orange juice.

"Creamsicle smoothies. Start ferrying all of that over to the coffee table," she added, gesturing at the collection of boxes and jars on the counter.

They were soon settled back down on the couch, with big glasses of tangy ice-cold smoothies and an array of snacks spread out before them, Loki sitting attentively between them and sniffing interestedly in the direction of the food.

"Jarvis, do you have My Chauffeur?" Darcy asked as she spread peanut butter on soda crackers and topped them with either apple slices or raisens.

"_Of course, Ms Lewis._"

"Seriously? My Chauffeur?" Tony asked her. "Isn't that from before you were born?"

"Yeah, but it's a favourite of my mom's, she even had it on VHS. I have fond memories of watching it with her, growing up. It's like cheesy romance comedy comfort food to me. You'll like it."

And he did, laughing himself half-sick during the scene with Casey Meadows getting Cat Fight to his concert on time. By the time the credits rolled as Casey and Battle were driven off post-wedding, he was relaxed and grinning. Darcy had sprawled out on the couch with her feet in his lap, Loki lying down on top of her with his eyes half-closed as she scratched his head and neck. Tony found himself smiling fondly at her.

"What?" she said after a minute, when she turned away from the credits and caught him staring.

"Oh, nothing."

"No, come on, why are you staring? I'll be seriously disappointed if you're leching on me, since I thought we had this whole platonic bros thing going on. Besides, as much as I like you, you are _so_ not my type."

"Way too high maintenance?"

"Among other things, yeah. So why the stare? Do I have food on my face? A hole in this shirt?"

"No, no... just, I was thinking how much I liked this. Tonight. And liked you. As a friend. I don't have very many of those you know, especially female ones. Acquaintances, employees, and ex-one-night-stands, yes, lots of those; actual female friends, not so much. There's like Pepper for sure, Natasha at least when she doesn't want to kill me, provisionally Jane, and you."

Darcy smiled. "You're sweet."

"Say that enough times and maybe I'll start to believe you. Anyway, I was just kind of thinking, and this is not a new thought for me, how if I'd ever actually had a younger sister I'd have wanted her to be just like you. Or a daughter, but that just makes me feel _old_, especially since I think I actually am technically old enough to be your father. But anyway, I seem to have an opening for an honorary kid sister, think you might be willing to take it on?"

Darcy grinned, and sat up, crossing her legs and resettling Loki in her lap. "I dunno, I think that might require some negotiations. See, I already have three brothers, and I don't think I want another one. But you could be my honorary big sister maybe?"

Tony laughed. "Hrmm... that would depend, what would it involve? I'd be up for occasional sleepovers, chick flick nights, gossiping, and the odd shopping spree, but I think I'd need to draw the line at me in a dress or makeup. Or any form of nightie."

"Can we at least do each other's hair some times?"

"I don't think mine is anywhere near long enough for braiding."

"I could tie little bows in it?" she asked hopefully.

Tony laughed again. "You're on."

"Okay, then I'm fine with being honorary kid sister Stark, as long as it doesn't mean that I no longer get to be your platonic arm-candy as needed, because that was pretty fun too."

"It was," Tony agreed, and found himself smiling fondly at her again. "Another movie, or are you ready to go back to sleep now?"

"Another movie. Ever seen Down With Love?"

"Can't say that I have."

"_Excellent_. Lets make some popcorn or nachos or something first. I'm hungry again."

"God, Lewis, you eat like Steve or Thor."

Darcy laughed as she set aside Loki and rose to her feet again. "Says the man who inhaled an entire bag of Oreos within the last hour."

"Try wearing the suit for a few hours every day while sparring or fighting, that thing is a workout."

"Believe me, so is chasing around after Jane," Darcy said, and led the way to the kitchen.


	26. Hot and Cold

Tony was in a good mood the next morning, seeing as Jane had upgraded her 'maybe' to an 'I'll be back later today with one of my older sensors that you can take a look at', which seemed to at least be closer to the 'yes, you can see all my toys and make better ones for me' that he was hoping for. He missed out on getting to take Loki for a morning walk – Natasha called dibs on him first – but he cheated and took Loki and Bruce out for lunch to a burger place by Madison Park that didn't just tolerate the presence of dogs, but actually had a couple of dog-specific menu items that could be ordered.

"Burgers two days in a row," Bruce said, shaking his head slightly and looking amused as he ate the veggie burger and cheese fries he'd opted for.

Tony grinned. "Come on, everyone loves a good burger. Even you. Even daily. And it's not like we usually have them anything close to daily anyway. Beside, they have food for dogs," he pointed out, gesturing to where Loki was already nose-deep in his dish of frozen vanilla custard with peanut butter sauce and bakery-made dog biscuits.

"And this was an important consideration."

"Of course it was. And you'll love their shakes," Tony added as he looked over the menu again while taking a big bite out of his own cheeseburger. "Oh, hey they do creamsicle shakes. Reminds me I need to get Jarvis to lay in more vanilla ice cream and orange juice, because those are pretty good. And healthy for you."

"Ice cream is not all that healthy for you."

"Orange juice is! And there are worse things I could be eating than a frozen dairy product."

"Like a double cheeseburger with cheese fries?" Bruce asked, amused.

"Yes, exactly like that. And oh my god we have to try this one – a shake made of frozen chocolate custard, fudge sauce, chocolate truffle cookie dough, and dark chocolate chunks, topped with chocolate sprinkles. Actually I think everyone should get to try that one. I better order five to go... no, six, Agent should have one too. Wait, eight to go since Jane and Darcy are supposed to come back later..."

"They'll be melting before you can even get them back to the tower."

"Hah! That's what you think!" Tony said, then pulled out his phone. "Jarvis? Send my driver to pick me up in, oh, call it fifteen minutes, and tell him to bring a freezer bag and some dry ice." He closed the phone and beamed at Bruce. "See?"

"You're incorrigible."

"And ridiculous, don't forget Jane told me I'm ridiculous. Also, Darcy tells me I'm sweet. This is much better than when everyone used to call me much harsher names. Though I kind of used to deserve it."

"What is with you and Darcy anyway?"

"What do you mean? We're friends."

"Yeah, but... okay, true or false, the old you would have hit that by now. Or at least tried to."

"Yes, yes I would have. In a heartbeat. But the old me is an asshole, and Darcy is... well. It's kind of hard to explain."

"Were tasers involved?"

"They may have been at least involved in passing. Okay, Darcy is just... so _me_."

Bruce looked thoughtful for a moment. "Okay, minus the whole billionaire genius philanthropist playboy bit... still not seeing it."

"Genius billionaire playboy philanthropist. Anyway, apart from all of that she is short, short-tempered, libido the size of the Empire State building, wicked sense of humour, very personal sense of style, socially awkward except when she's not... maybe not as big an ego but give her time. Plus fiercely loyal to and protective of her friends, of which she has very few real ones. See: socially awkward. Also, I wouldn't put philanthropist past her, she may not have as deep pockets as I do but I bet she still gives what she can to good causes."

"I think that's the first time I've ever heard you use the word short about yourself."

"Yeah, well, if the shoes-with-lifts fit... I acknowledge I am not exactly the tallest person on our team, okay?"

"Yup. Okay, and yeah, I think I kind of get now what you mean about her being very you, in some weird alternative universe genderbent way. You do have at least vaguely similar personalities."

"More than vaguely similar. Anyway, yes, she made it pretty clear the first time we met that she thinks I'm pretty... what's the word, adorkable, for an older man, and might be fun to hang out with occasionally, but that I'm not her type and she wouldn't hesitate to taser me if I made any unwanted advances. And then after Jane kicked me out of the building we went to a bar for drinks and did drunken karaoke together, until she ended up having to taser someone who tried to get handsy with her assets. I had to bail her out, thankfully this was while they were still in New Mexico, where it's at least legal to carry one. Very fun evening."

Bruce laughed. "You're right, she is very you."

"Yeah. Anyway, that was the start of our friendship, and while yes, I would happily hit that if she ever expressed interest, I would rather keep the friendship. There aren't all that many people around who look at me and see, well, _me_, instead of the money, the fame, the tarnished reputation, or what I can do for them."

Bruce smiled. "I can understand that. Not exactly being overburdened with friends myself, especially ones who look at me and see Bruce, not just the other guy." He looked to the side, and nodded his head. "I do believe that's our ride coming."

"So it is," Tony said. "I'll be right back, get the driver to bring over the freezer bag, please," he said, inhaled the last couple bites of his meal and hurried inside to order the shakes, and a doggie bag of the dog biscuits since it wouldn't be fair to pick up treats for everyone except Loki.

* * *

Loki watched in disappointment as Tony headed off in the elevator with Bruce, Jane and Darcy again, the women clutching the remains of the shakes Tony had presented them with as soon as they'd arrived. He snorted and flopped down on the floor, head resting on his forepaws, and stared at the elevator doors, idly considering seeking out more pillows to take out his frustrations on. Or perhaps a pair of shoes.

"Abandoned you again, did he?" Steve asked, and knelt down to scratch at the base of Loki's ears and then scoop him up. "Come watch TV with me."

Loki snorted, but allowed himself to be carried to the seating area and deposited on the seat next to Steve. He lay there quietly, gradually relaxing as Steve scratched and petted him, eventually wiggling around to rest his chin on Steve's thigh, his eyes half-lidding in contentment.

"Aren't you two the pretty picture," Natasha said as she walked into the room from the elevator area.

Steve looked up at her and smiled. "Natasha. Care to join us?"

"Don't mind if I do," she agreed, and sat down on the other side of Steve. "What are we watching?"

"A documentary about the Cold War."

"Ugh."

"We could watch something else?"

"I'd appreciate it. A good action movie, or a spy thriller."

"Like James Bond?" Steve asked. "Clint introduced me to those a couple weeks ago," he explained when Natasha raised an eyebrow at him. "And explained to me that they're good escapism for him because they're so completely unrelated to what being a real spy is actually like."

"Who's your favourite Bond so far?"

"Sean Connery, though I'm not very far into the series yet. What's the next one to watch, Jarvis?"

"_I believe Moonraker is next, Steve._"

"Want to watch that?"

"No, pass. I'd prefer something at least slightly more rooted in reality. Though Sean Connery is good... Oh, I know. Jarvis, play The Hunt for Red October, please."

"_Of course, Ms Romanov._"

Things were quiet for a while, apart from the sound of the movie. Loki, after considering for a while, climbed up into Steve's lap and far enough over to rest his head on Natasha's thigh, so that both of them could scratch and pet him.

"Isn't that the actor who was Darkness in the movie with the unicorns and glitter?"

"Yes," Natasha agreed. "Tim Curry."

"Good," Steve said, sounding pleased with himself.

Loki tuned out their conversation for a while after that, until he realized they'd changed from talking about the movie to talking about him.

"It was kind of adorable, the way Tony insisted on being the only person allowed to feed Loki any of the dog biscuits."

"Yeah. I get the feeling, from things he's said," Steve paused, frowning unhappily before finally continuing. "Well, that Howard wasn't the sort of father who'd think to get his son a puppy or toss a ball around with him or anything like that."

Natasha sighed and nodded. "I've read both their files. Howard Stark was far from ideal father material. It didn't help that he'd had Tony so late in life; he was a rather bitter and withdrawn man by then, certainly no longer the man you'd known. Very set in his ways, cold, more concerned with his company and his legacy than his family. A distant father, a neat freak, an alcoholic and a workaholic. I think the best that can be said of him was that at least his neglect of Tony was mostly of the benign variety; ignoring him, almost never praising him, rarely spending time with him..."

"Ouch," Steve said softly. "That explains a lot, actually. About more than just Tony being so secretly excited about having something resembling a real pet," he added, and looked down at Loki, running his hand soothingly down his back again.

"Yes, it does," Natasha agreed softly, then pursed her lips and rolled back her head. "Jarvis – my override, the last five minutes of discussion, please."

"_Of course, Ms Romanov._"

Steve gave her a startled look. "You have an override?"

"Yes. For times when I need to discuss things with Clint or others that I would prefer Tony not know. Pepper made him set it up for me."

"And that stops him from prying? When he knows it exists?"

"Not always, if he's really determined he can use his own overrides to find out what Jarvis has sequestered, but the one time he went snooping and made it known later, I made a point of making his life hell for a week afterwards. So now even if he does go snooping, he at least pretends to be unaware of things, which I'm willing to accept as close enough."

"I see. So the secrecy is an illusion."

"Yes, but that's true of almost all secrets, isn't it?"

Steve nodded agreement. "Yeah. Oh, something I'm curious about... why do you have Jarvis call you Ms Romanov instead of Natasha?"

Natasha smiled. "Because if he really was an English butler, that's what he'd call me. It makes both of us feel more comfortable."

"Really?"

Natasha laughed. "Well, it makes _me_ feel more comfortable, anyway."

"Movie's done."

"So it is. Museum?"

"Sure," Steve said, and rose to his feet. "Let me just check Loki's water bowl first."

Loki followed him into the kitchen, and took a long drink as soon as Steve had rinsed and refilled the bowl and put it down. He paused after a bit to catch his breath, and could hear Steve and Natasha still chatting as they waited for the elevator.

"...kind of cute how he was just lying there, waiting for Tony," Steve was saying. A chime sounded as the elevator arrived.

"Dogs are like that; they get attached to their person. Very loyal," Natasha said, the sound of her voice changing as the two got into the elevator.

"Even though he's not a real dog, he sure acts like..." The closing of the elevator doors cut off what Steve was saying.

Loki stood frozen, a last few drops of water dripping off his muzzle and into the bowl, then slowly walked back out to main room. Of course; he should have seen it himself, the danger of staying in one particular form for so long, especially _this_ form, that of an animal that was a companion to and usually subservient toward mankind. His stomach curdled as he thought of how _pleased_ he'd felt lately, the emotions and desires of the animal form swaying his own; delighted to be treated like a common pet, coddled and walked and cuddled and fed like some near-mindless beast, actually glad that he was being accepted as a minor pack-member of the Avengers.

He walked over to the windows and stared out at the arch of the balcony, and the cityscape beyond it, remembering his first visit here, remembering Tony walking in to confront him, his mix of stubborn bravery and buried fear and snark. Loki's certainty that the man would be easily overwhelmed, added to his stable of thralls, turned against his companions. His anger when that failed... and then throwing Stark from the building, his feeling of delight as the man plummeted out of view, turning to shock and then consternation as one of Stark's many machines blasted past him out of the windows and down after the man, somehow saving him from what had seemed to be certain death.

He tried to recover that earlier feeling of certainty in himself and his plans, to ignore the instincts of this form, that wanted Tony back here, that wanted to be touched and praised. Anger swept over him – a red-hot rage at himself, at Tony and the other Avengers, at Thor and Odin – and he unleashed it on the room's furnishings, jumping up on the couch to retrieve one of the few throw cushions that had survived his attack on them the day before. He knocked it around the room, sometimes tearing at it with teeth and forepaws, sometimes picking it up in his mouth and shaking it like a rat before tossing it to the side and leaping on it again, snarling and growling as he tore it apart. It was a sad-looking half-deflated sack of well-shredded fabric, and he was beginning to think it was time to select a second victim, when a particularly energetic leap after it sent him sliding into a small throw rug, knocking it askew.

The floor was different underneath the rug; not merely the polished concrete that it was throughout this section of Tony's penthouse, but with an irregularly shaped inset of terrazzo flooring of green and black marble chips with flecks of some gold-coloured material. Loki froze, then grabbed the edge of the rug in his teeth and pulled it the rest of the way off to reveal the whole inset, several feet in length and just over a foot in width. A glance around to place its location relative to things like the steps up to the raised area where Tony's bar was were sufficient to identify what it must be; the hole made in the floor from the Hulk smashing him into it, repaired in a way that made it stand out as a trophy of that encounter rather then erasing it.

His anger switched from hot to cold in a breath. He stalked out of the room and upstairs to Tony's bedroom, where he briefly considered the satisfaction to be gained from soiling Tony's bed before deciding that would be an act beneath him, and simply dragging the sheets askew enough that he could burrow in under them, out f sight of even Jarvis' ever-watchful eyes. He lay there for a while, ignoring the conflicting feelings his body was sending him, trying to concentrate on a form that would be less susceptible to being swayed by interacting with the Avengers, rather than on how oddly comforting the faint scent of Tony that lingered in the bedding was to this body. With an effort, he finally forced himself to sleep.


	27. Things The Start With S

**More *wavey-hands* comic book level fake science ahead.**

* * *

Tony peered inside the casing, grimacing at the haphazard wiring. "It's like a rat's nest in there," he said, feeling offended that such a messy contraption had ever worked at all.

"Yes, well, as you pointed out yesterday, I'm no electrical engineer," Jane pointed out, with only a slight edge in her voice. "I was more concerned with building something that worked well enough to be a proof-of-theory than something that was well-constructed. Which is also why this particular sensor is now retired; I've built much better versions since."

"Alright, so... what this mess of spaghetti wiring is supposed to do is take readings of some very odd energy sources, right? Which means there's supposed to be a sensor in here somewhere, except I'm seeing an empty socket over here instead of what I'm assuming is supposed to be the bit that's the actual sensor... so what you're showing me is a sensor that currently senses nothing? Not exactly overly helpful, Dr Foster."

"The sensor part itself is built of an extremely rare element, and you don't want to know how difficult it was for me to obtain a sufficient sample of the metal in question to build the first sensor element, much less the two additional ones I've put together since; the sensors work best when I have three of them to triangulate sources with. I have brought over the original element I built, which still works with this sensor. If you break it, I will hurt you. I'll also want a receipt before I hand it over, you're only allowed to use it in my presence, and I'll want it back at the end of the session since I have nightly readings to take that require it. Understand?"

"Yeah, yeah, gimme," Tony said, and made grabby hands at her.

"Receipt first," Jane said sternly, and Darcy held out an already-completed form and a pen to Tony, then when he stared blankly at first them and then her, set them down on the bench and allowed him to pick them up himself, though he ignored the pen she'd supplied in favour of a leaky ball-point pen he scavenged off a nearby table.

Tony frowned as he read the receipt over. "What, wait... vibranium? How on earth did you a) acquire any vibranium, and b) work it? This I have to see," he said, scrawled a signature and date at the bottom of the form, and handed it and the leaky pen over to Darcy, absentmindedly rubbing ink off his fingers onto his shirt while looking hopefully at Jane.

Jane frowned at him, then took a small metal box out of her purse, setting it down on the bench and opening it. It was foam-lined, and contained something that looked vaguely like an old-fashioned vacuum tube, about the size of a miniature bottle of alcohol. The tube had a number of pin contacts projecting out of the base, and contained a lot of hair-fine wires connected to a bit of what looked like gold foil inside. In fact, the more he looked at it... "Please tell me that's not a miniature alcohol bottle."

Jane and Darcy exchanged a look and giggled. "It could be worse," Jane said, straight-faced. "I had a choice between sacrificing the Tabasco sauce or the shot of vodka, and the vodka bottle had a larger mouth."

"And the foil? You expect me to believe that's pure vibranium?"

"No, it's made of vibranium dust bonded together with gold; I didn't have equipment capable of smelting or otherwise working the vibranium, which was already in dust form, and decided that a matrix of vibranium and gold was likely sufficient for my purposes. Crude but workable."

"Let me guess... your grandmother's wedding ring?"

Jane smiled. "No. An earring I'd lost the match for," she said, then shrugged. "It was the only 24 karat gold I had on hand. I had to improvise a lot with this stuff."

"Okay... so if we put this doohickey you built out of spit, gum, and a non-lost earring in your sensor, what's it supposed to do? How do you believe it works?"

"Well, vibranium absorbs any energy it comes into contact with, over a very broad range of what can be termed energy. But it can only absorb so much energy so fast. So what I do is feed in an electrical current, and gradually ramp it up. There's a warm-up period until it...well, saturates the capacity of the dust, after which a small current starts to flow out of the foil and I cease ramping up the input and leave it constant."

"Oh," Bruce said, looking enlightened. "And any additional energy that impacts the foil from an exterior source will cause the escaping current to vary."

"Exactly," Jane said, smiling warmly at Bruce. "So I shield it as much as I can from known external energy sources, like radio waves and microwave energy and all that sort of thing, filter out any remaining fluctuations that prove to be either constant or predictable – call it the background radiation of energy that's still getting through the shielding – and anything left is possibly caused by an anomalous event and might be what I'm looking for and trying to measure. This first sensor is very poorly shielded, so other than proving that the idea did in fact work, it wasn't terribly useful out in the field," she added, gesturing to the opened casing on the table. "It did sense something during the first event I witnessed after completing it, but the readings were too crude to do anything really useful with. The sensors I've built since are much better, though I'm still more studying the side-effects of the energy release – atmospheric ionization, some minor gamma radiation and so on – than the energy itself."

"Can I see it in operation?" Tony asked, feeling excited. "I think this actually will work to sense Loki's magic, 'cause remember what happened when he tried to use his glow stick of mind control on me?"

"It failed," Bruce said. "Because of your arc reactor..."

"Ding ding ding! And my current arc reactor is powered with synthetic vibranium. So, hypothesis: based on the evidence of Loki's spell failing, my synthetic vibranium absorbs magic energy, therefore this sensor-foil-thing of Jane's should also absorb magic, therefore her thingamajig should be able to sense when magic is in use. With an addendum that vibranium might even be a key part of our eventual Faraday cage equivalent for shielding things from magic."

"That still tells us nothing about what magic actually is, or how it works," Bruce pointed out.

"No, but it would prove that magic is a form of energy, _detectable_ energy, at which point it ceases being mumbo-jumbo and is merely a part of science we don't understand yet. And I like that idea far more than magic being some unknowable something with no discernible rules. It's a baby step, but it's also a step in the right direction. Like a foggy photographic plate."

Bruce and Jane both smiled at that. Jane soon had the sensor element installed, the casing closed and powered up, and data scrolling on a battered old laptop, which so far was displaying a disappointingly flat line. "Before you say anything, I have better computers now too," she said, giving Tony a look. "But this is the laptop I had when I built this one, so it's the computer that has the version of the software that works with it. 'Kay?"

"Okay, fine. Though I hope you won't object to me transferring the program over to Jarvis later and connecting him up to this contraption of yours, for the next time we use it, assuming I don't build a better one first. Speaking of, that's another reason you should let me build your things; synthetic vibranium! Though I'll need to rebuild my particle accelerator first since my original one kind of got destroyed. Jarvis, find a place where I can build one without too much legal bullshit and acquire the land and have Pepper run the paperwork on it all, will you?"

"_Of course, sir. I'm sure Ms Potts will be delighted with the additional workload._"

"Hush you, you know she'll just delegate it to one of her people anyway, and I don't feel at all guilty about keeping people I pay busy. Especially lawyers."

"_Technically it is Stark Industries that pays them, sir._"

"Close enough. Oh look, our flat line just went squiggly. Saturation point of the foil, I assume."

"Yes. You can see why I liked being out in the middle of nowhere for so much of my early work," Jane agreed, gesturing at the very noisy waveform it was making on the screen. "There's too many radiating energy sources in a big city. Even with heavy shielding this would require a huge amount of filtering before it would be possible to pick out the fluctuations that are caused by the energy that accompanies the atmospheric anomalies I was studying."

"About that energy," Bruce began, and the three of them ended up in a lengthy discussion of Jane's research interrupted only by Darcy handing snacks and beverages to them and guiding Jane into sitting down in a real chair, until some time later when Jarvis made a small throat-clearing sound to get Tony's attention.

"What's up, Jarvis?"

"_Sorry for interrupting, sir, but I believe Loki is, ah... throwing a temper tantrum._"

"Show me," Tony said, and frowned as Jarvis projected a display showing Loki eviscerating a throw cushion, and not in a playful way like he had the day before; he was growling in a very loud and hostile tone, his lips curled back to display his teeth.

"Wow, who pissed off the Pom," Darcy said, leaning in to take a closer look.

"Jarvis?"

"_I do not know, sir. He was fine for some time after you'd left. He watched a movie with Captain Rogers and Ms Romanov for most of the afternoon, then shortly after they'd left he suddenly flew into rage._"

"Separation anxiety?" Tony asked Darcy.

"I don't think so, Poms can get destructive when lonely, but that sort of rage isn't normally caused by it."

"Jarvis, can you play back the last few minutes of Steve and Natasha's visit to Tony's floor?" Bruce asked.

"Oh, good idea," Tony agreed. "Playback, Jarvis."

"Ow," Bruce said a couple of minutes later. "I guess he has pretty sensitive hearing."

"And probably just realized his animal form's been influencing him, yup. So much for our cunning plan."

"What cunning plan?" both Jane and Darcy asked.

"Can I just say it's creepy when you two do that?" Tony said, then sighed. "We realized a couple weeks ago that his... attitude, seems to be affected by the form he takes. He was pretty standoffish at first, but then he was a horse for a few days and responded really well to grooming, after which he changed to taking dog forms, which were even more susceptible to things like praise and attention. So we've all been doing our best to spend a lot of time with dog-Loki, talking him on walks, petting him, and so on. Positive reinforcement type stuff."

"Awwww, you've been re-socializing him," Darcy said. "How sweet."

"Yeah, and this is clearly going to be a set-back in that plan, since it kind of relied on him not being aware that his form... oh, _fuck_," Tony swore, as he turned and gestured at the monitor just in time to catch Loki staring at the terrazzo-filled Loki-sized hole in his floor. "Damn it, I meant to tape that rug down."

"Too late now," Bruce said resignedly. "Ouch."

"What? What's that?" Jane asked, frowning at the screen as Loki turned and trotted away in the direction of the stairs.

"That is where the Hulk slam-dunked Loki into my living room floor during the Battle of New York," Tony explained. "I may have sort of decided to keep a reminder of it as a trophy, and repaired the damage with a different material so it would stand out. In retrospect a little on the mean side but then I never expected to end up house-sitting the guy. And, come on, he was a murdering asshole back then, keeping a trophy of his defeat was completely justifiable at the time."

"True," Jane reluctantly agreed, while Darcy sighed and slowly nodded.

"Honestly we have very little evidence that he isn't still one, when you get right down to it," Bruce pointed out.

They watched silently as Loki tugged the sheets askew, then jumped up on the bed and wormed his way under them.

"Poor guy's sulking," Darcy said. "On the plus side, he only killed one pillow. I've seen Pomeranians do a lot worse when angry at their person."

"Huh... I think he's doing more than just sulking," Tony said, as the lump under the sheets suddenly increased drastically in size. "He's sleeping. Which based on experience to date means a new animal form when he wakes up in a few hours. I wouldn't bet on it being another dog."

"Neither would I," Bruce agreed.

"Oh, hey, did we get any spike on the sensor when he changed?" Tony suddenly thought to ask.

"_There may have been a spike at around that time, sir, but as unshielded as the sensor currently is, the waveform is noisy enough that there's no way of telling if that was from Loki changing shape or merely someone in a nearby building microwaving popcorn._"

"Damn. Okay, so, one of the first things I need to get on is building a better version of this machine. And synthesizing more vibranium so we can try to construct some better sensor elements. Find a place for me to build it yet, Jarvis?"

"_I have three possibilities shortlisted and being reviewed by legal already, sir._"

"Excellent work. Oh, and let me know when Loki wakes, would you?" he said, then frowned. "You guys hungry? I feel like I could eat again. How about we continue this talk over food; what would you guys like to eat?"

* * *

It was mid-evening, well after Jane had reclaimed her sensor and headed back to her own lab with Darcy, when Jarvis let Tony know that Loki had woken again. "I guess I better go see what he is now," Tony said, and sighed as he rose to his feet. "Just... it's not something lethal, is it? No velociraptor or anything horrible like that?"

There was a slight but noticeable pause before Jarvis answered. "_Not lethal to humans, certainly._"

"That doesn't sound as reassuring as I wish it did. And I notice you said nothing about relative horribleness. Don't spoil it for me, I'm sure he'll be in a better mood if he does manage to startle, scare, or creep me out," Tony said.

Clint and Bruce exchanged a look, then rose to their feet as well. "We're coming with," Clint said firmly.

Tony nodded, and led the way across the room, then paused again at the foot of the stairs. "Oh, hell... okay, one spoiler allowed. He's not something like a camel spider, is he? Any form of spider, really. Please tell me there isn't a giant arachnid lurking in my bedroom."

"_No sir, he is neither an arachnid nor an arachnid-like creature,_" Jarvis responded, sounding amused.

"Whew, okay, thank god for small mercies anyway," Tony said, and continued on up the stairs to his bedroom, Jarvis bringing up the lights as he entered. Tony paused just inside the doorway and looked around, Clint and Bruce stopping just behind him and doing the same.

"If he's still in bed he's something pretty small," Bruce said thoughtfully, and nodded towards the flattened sheets.

Tony snorted, then walked over to the bed and flipped back the sheets, but there wasn't anything there except a few shed hairs. "Not here. Jarvis, any hints?"

"_I believe he has taken refuge under your dresser, sir._"

All three of them turned and looked at the article of furniture in question. There was only a gap of an inch or two between the underside of the dresser and the floor. Tony frowned. "I've seen enough horror movies to say with a great degree of certainty that I'm not attempting to peer under there. Or sticking my hand under, either."

"Chicken. Anyway, you're not thinking it through," Clint said, and walked over, then knelt down and pulled out the bottom drawer, lifting it free of its rails and carrying it a couple of steps to one side before setting it down.

Tony moved closer, leaning down a little to peer through the wide gap that removing the drawer had left open, trying to see into the space it had exposed, then yelped and jumped backwards, his foot skidding out from under him and causing him to fall heavily to the floor, as a long reptilian shape reared up and made a loud reverberant sound. He scrambled backwards before rising to his feet again. "Fuck! What the hell... is he a rattlesnake?" Tony asked anxiously, staring at the sizable snake swaying back and forth in the opening, its body contorted into a series of S-curves, clearly ready to strike. It had a ground of yellowish-beige scales with a pattern of dark brownish-black along its back and sides, the underside a slightly creamier shade without markings.

Bruce was already putting on his glasses and peering interestedly at it. "I don't believe that's a rattlesnake," he said after a moment.

Clint laughed, and moved forward. "No, not a rattlesnake," he agreed, then made a motion with his right hand towards it. The snake lunged for him, and he deftly caught it just back of the head with his left hand. "He's a bullsnake," he said, and began hauling Loki out of cover. "Constrictor-type snake, found mostly in grasslands areas from Texas up into the southern ends of Canada's prairie provinces. The Snake Lady at the circus had a couple. Loki's a nice big specimen... I'd say seven, maybe eight foot in length."

Loki hissed and lashed, and tried to pull himself back into cover, but Clint calmly and carefully reached into the dresser, and lifted out the rest of his tail, giving him nothing to exert leverage against. Loki thrashed around, then contorted himself to loop back and forth around Clint's forearm, not squeezing but so that his weight was at least supported rather than hanging free.

Bruce moved closer, peering right into the snake's mouth, which drew another long rattling hiss from Loki. "Fascinating," he said. "Such a loud sound from such a small animal."

Tony cautiously moved forward too. "So... like Jarvis said, not lethal to humans?"

"Not at all," Bruce said. "They eat small mammals, birds and reptiles, if I remember correctly."

"Lethal to gophers," Clint agreed. "They eat things that size or smaller."

"Alive? Please tell me we're not going to have to feed live food to him," Tony asked, feeling disturbed at the idea.

Clint grinned. "Nah. Not unless he stays in this form a lot longer than three days, and even then, you can feed them dead prey if you're squeamish. About all he's going to need is access to water."

"That's it?"

"That's it. Though if you don't want him showing up underfoot in weird places, an enclosure would also be a good idea. One large enough for shape-changing, of course."

Tony made a face. "Jarvis, how's work progressing on repairs and renovations to the common level?"

"_It will be several more days until work is complete, sir._"

"All right, I guess he's still staying here with me for now then. Hopefully we can avoid stepping on him at least."

That drew another long rattling hiss from Loki.

"How the hell does he even do that?" Tony asked, staring.

Bruce smiled. "Bullsnakes have a special sort of epiglottis in the back of their throat; it projects outwards, like a flap or tube. They blow air past it to make a rattling sound, to try and convince attackers that they're a rattlesnake and should be avoided."

"They shake the end of their tail while they do it, too," Clint said. "They don't actually have a rattle, but if the tail tip is in something like dry leaves or grasses, the sound and motion can help with the imitation. Hey also flatten out their head to make it look more like the shape of a rattlesnake's head."

"So what you're telling me is that he's a tricksy bastard of a snake."

"Yeah," Clint agreed, grinning, and laughed when Loki hissed again. "And touchy."

"Yeah, well, few people enjoy being talked of as if they're not there," Bruce pointed out.

"True," Tony agreed. "Sorry Loki, but it's kind of difficult to do anything but talk around you when you're not really capable of participating in the conversation." He tilted his head a little to one side, looking thoughtfully at Loki. "At least he's not as scary-looking as that giant whatever-the-hell-it-was he turned into when he was a snake before."

"He was a green anaconda last time," Bruce said. "More snake than I feel comfortable handling."

"Same," Clint agreed. "Bullsnake is fine though," he said, and ran an admiring hand down Loki's back.

"What... what does he feel like?" Tony asked nervously.

Clint smiled and held his arm out, hand still holding Loki back of the head. "Touch him and find out."

Tony hesitated, then tentatively touched Loki's side. "Huh. Warmer then I expected."

"Just 'cause they're called cold-blooded doesn't mean they're cold," Clint said. "It just means their temperature is regulated more by their environment than by an internal thermostat. He'll get slow if its chilly, but room temperature is fine for him; not like a tropical snake which would need a heat source to be happy. Though a heat source won't harm him, either. Anyway, I'm going to put him down now, unless one of you two wants to hold him for a bit first?"

"No, thanks, I'm good," Bruce said.

"Same," Tony agreed, and edged back a little as Clint crouched down and released his grip on Loki, letting him slither into a pile on the floor. Loki didn't resume his threat display, but merely shifted around to curl up more comfortably, his head lifted to look back at the three of them.

"I think I need a drink," Tony said after a brief silence, and headed toward the stairs.

"I think I'll join you," Clint said, following him. "Got any beer?"

"Of course. Bruce?"

"No, thanks. I think I'll just head back to my own floor and read for a while. See you guys tomorrow," he called as he headed toward the elevator while they made their way toward the bar.

"Alright, good-night Bruce," Tony said.

"Night," Clint called as well.

The two of them were soon seated at the bar, Tony with some imported single malt that he wasn't sure whether or not he liked – the taste was a little peatier than he normally enjoyed – and Clint with a bottle of craft beer. Loki had followed them down, and was currently slithering his way around the edges of the room.

"Dated someone once who was terrified of cats," Tony said. "She claimed it was because the way they moved was too snake-like."

Clint leaned back to watch Loki for a moment. "They are both very sinuous animals," he agreed, very seriously.

Tony laughed. "I suppose. So... you and the Snake Lady?"

Clint grinned. "Not like that. I was fifteen and unhappy and she was a very... matronly older woman. I helped feed the snakes, and usually she'd have a spare sandwich or a slice of cake or something like that for me afterwards. Liked feeding me up; I was a skinny little brat."

"You're still little. Though maybe not skinny."

"Hey, I'm taller than you are."

"Not by very much."

"Almost an inch!"

"Why are we arguing about this?" Tony asked, pausing for a moment.

"I dunno. Because we're the two shortest members of the team?"

"Actually I think Agent is shorter."

"Phil, Tony, his name is Phil."

"How is Agent anyway?"

"Same as he was when you saw him yesterday; doing fine."

"Good. You'll let me know if there's anything he needs?"

"Of course. Oh, and he said to say thank you for the new pilates ball, but he doesn't really need three of them. Though it being painted to look like Captain America's shield amused him. Briefly."

"Good. That's very good. Jarvis, I don't see Loki any more, where is he?"

"_Climbing up a stool in the kitchen, sir._"

Tony sighed, "Well, at least that's not underfoot. Jarvis, warn me if I ever seem to be in danger of stepping on him, 'kay? Or even just encountering him unexpectedly. I have to admit snakes aren't my favourite animals."

"Move too much like cats?" Clint asked, smiling, and drank the last of his beer.

Tony grinned. "Nice one."

"Yeah. Anyway, I'm heading off to bed. Night, Tony."

"Night, Clint," Tony responded, and slowly finished the remainder of his whiskey before going over and peering into his kitchen. Loki was curled up in the sink, his head resting on the counter. Tony checked that there was still water in his bowl, then headed off to bed as well.

* * *

Tony lay very still, considering, before he finally spoke, voice a sleepy mumble. "Jarvis... please tell me that whatever is draped over top of me is not a snake."

"_Would sir prefer a small white lie or an outright fabrication?_"

Tony groaned. "Never mind. I'm... I'm just going to stick my head under a pillow and pretend there isn't a seven foot snake cuddling up to me," he said, and dragged a pillow over top of his head before going back to sleep.


	28. An Entirely Unsettling Fashion

Loki sensed the increase in heat as the sun rose outside the tower, the warmth of it slowly penetrating into the room. He didn't much care for the shift in senses that came with taking the form of a serpent, but it was fascinating to experience; the reduced hearing and vision, the increased sensitivity to temperature and vibration that partially made up for it, the greatly enhanced sense of smell, even stronger than he'd experienced in forms such as the dog. His tongue flickered constantly, tasting the air and transferring particles to the extremely sensitive smell receptors on the roof of his mouth. He could smell from that there was a small rodent somewhere in Tony's apartment; it seemed that even the tower's relative newness and inhospitable building materials were not entirely proof to the vermin. But he was not hungry; he would let it continue its existence, as long as it was not foolish enough to cross his path.

He lifted his head from where he was currently lying folded along Tony's side, and look curiously down at the sleeping man. The different patterns of heat across his skin betrayed things about his inner makeup, like the subsurface presence of the arteries in his neck, the slightly-more-than-skin-hot warmth of the inset arc reactor and the slightly cooler metal of the casing it was set in. There was an odd pattern of cool spots along his inner forearms, and a hot spot on his upper arm. He tasted around one of the cool spots, then nosed against the skin over it; the taste of metal, and something hard embedded under the skin, only a small scar betraying where it has been implanted. Something to do with Tony's machines, he guessed, perhaps the suits.

Tony would be waking soon. It would be fun to play another prank on him, perhaps hide somewhere unexpected... except Jarvis would know where he was, and would likely warn Tony. Bah. That was no fun.

He slid off the bed and made his way down to the kitchen, enjoying the way different surfaces felt as he slid across them, some easier to move across than others. The polished cement in the main room was annoyingly smooth, which made it difficult to get proper traction on, but the rough slate flooring in the kitchen was lovely to move across.

Climbing a stool again brought him up to counter height, and he spent some time just nosing around the canisters, cutting boards, fruit bowl and so forth stored there before setting his sights on a higher surface. A knife block gave him a good anchor and an initial lift, from which he was able to get his head up to the bottom edge of a framed print on the wall. He leaned into it, letting his belly scales flex to lift him a scale's-width higher at a time, head and neck slowly easing upwards again until he was able to engage his scales with the upper edge of the frame as well, body twisting sideways after that to stretch out along the top of it in the direction of the next picture in the set of three. He'd gotten as far as bridging the gap over and up to the next frame, half his body still dangling down the first frame and the last foot or so of his tail remaining braced against the knife block, when there was a squawk of surprise from the door.

Tony, he saw, and felt warmly amused at having managed to startle him again after all.

"Snakes can climb walls?" Tony asked. "Or is this just a Loki thing? Jarvis?"

"_Yes, sir, there are a number of snakes capable of climbing walls, bullsnakes among them, as long as the surface has enough imperfections for their scales to brace against and prevent backwards traction. Even a smooth surface such as glass may not always impede them, as most snakes can lift as much as two-thirds of their body length merely by bracing it against the surface, though there is a decided tendency to fall over sideways._"

"Do I want to know why snakes can climb walls? Or is it a really creepy reason?"

"_Only creepy if you're a bird or rodent, sir. As well as small mammals, many snakes also eat birds and eggs, and they will climb trees, or the walls of houses, sheds and barns, to get at the nests._"

"Right," Tony said, and grimaced. "Coffee. I definitely need coffee," he said, and made his way over to the machine to start it brewing.

Loki resumed his travels, and was draped across the tops of all three frames, eyeing the gap remaining to the top of the fridge, by the time someone else walked in. Clint, who merely glanced Loki's direction, then headed over to pour himself a mug of coffee and join Tony in watching Loki's antics.

"Why didn't you tell me snakes can climb walls?" Tony asked him.

Cling shrugged. "You never asked?"

"I didn't know to ask!"

"Yeah, well... now you know. Cool, right?"

"In an entirely unsettling fashion, yes."

Loki tuned them out, concentrating on stiffening his neck and slowly levering it out across the remaining gap. It was an odd feeling, keeping some parts of his body rigid and others almost lax, so that he could slide smoothly from frame to frame while bridging forwards. Finally his head touched down on the edge of the fridge. The top surface was thankfully of a textured plastic, not the brushed metal of the doors, and gave him enough traction that he easily able to brace his scales against it and draw the rest of his body over, until all of him was curled up on top of it, enjoying the pleasing warmth and faint vibration of his perch.

* * *

"He reminds me of you," Tony said to Clint.

Clint grinned. "Because he likes the high places?"

"Yeah. Who's on breakfast today?"

"You," Clint said.

"Hell no, I buy the groceries and supply the kitchen, I don't have to cook. Or clean."

"Well, Natasha is having brunch with Phil this morning, Steve is still sleeping, Bruce did breakfast yesterday... so it's you or me, unless you want to wait until Captain Sleeping Beauty wakes, and a little bird told me he was up real late last night."

Tony sighed. "A little bird with red hair who may also have been up real late with him?"

"Yes. So, unless you want to risk my cooking..."

"Okay, fine, I'll cook, since it's that or toaster pastries, and I think those all died along with the kitchen downstairs."

"Alas, poor Pop Tarts, Thor knew them well. Speaking of our resident Thunder God, I wonder why he's not back from Asgard yet. Or even sent any word. It's been, what, over a month now?"

"Just over," Tony agreed as he took ingredients out of the fridge and cupboards. "Start some toast going, would you? Two pieces each."

"Sure," Clint said. "What are we having?

"Curried cheese omelets on toast."

"Sounds edible."

"They will be, if you don't distract me," Tony said, and started breaking eggs into a mixing bowl. He didn't really _mind_ cooking, it's just he was best at it when he was only cooking for himself, no pressure at all, and even then he usually had to rely on Jarvis keeping an eye on things in case he got distracted.

Though this wasn't bad, sharing the kitchen with Clint while he whipped eggs together with seasonings and cream and got the omelets cooking. Clint being an even worse cook than he was meant that Clint wasn't likely to have high expectations as to what Tony made, and between the two of them they were soon sitting down to quartered omelets layered on toast with slices of a nice sharp cheddar melting into the toast under them.

"Not bad," Clint said after trying his first bite.

Tony just nodded, his mouth too full of breakfast to respond. He glanced over to the fridge, where Loki was still mostly curled up in a pile, though he was nosing around the edges as if looking for what to do next. "So what does one do to keep a snake entertained?" he asked.

Clint shrugged. "Not much, that I know of. The Snake Lady usually kept hers in their terrariums, though she'd let them each out for a while every day, so there was usually one wandering around somewhere in her trailer. She kept it snake-proofed so they couldn't get into anywhere that was dangerous to them, not that that always stopped them. The friendlier snakes would usually hang out with her... on her, more accurately. Draped across her shoulders or curled up in her lap while she watched TV, that sort of thing. Mostly they'd either explore, or find some place warm to curl up and bask for a while."

"So pretty much what Loki's already doing."

"Pretty much. Though being Loki and not a real bullsnake I'm sure he'll want to do more than just lie around in the warm."

Tony grinned. "You're probably right," he said, and pushed aside his empty plate. "Hey, Loki... I'm going down to the lab for the day. Want to come?"

Loki's head turned in his direction, then the snake lowered himself down off of the fridge in a long cascade, his head touching the ground shortly before the remainder of his body spilled down to the floor with a loud thump.

"I'd call that a yes," Clint said.

"Yeah, so would I," Tony agreed, looking down to where Loki was coiling himself up near the foot of Tony's stool, head raised to give him what Tony could only think of as an expectant look. He got up and put his plate in the dishwasher, nodded good-bye to Clint, and headed off to the elevators, Loki following along behind.

* * *

Loki quickly found that the reduced vision and hearing of the snake made using the internet too difficult, but for once he didn't find himself bored without it. For some reason, Tony's robots were fascinated by his latest form, Dummy very curious and wanting to get close and examine him, while Butterfingers and You hung back, watching with equal interest but nervously backing away any time Loki wandered closer to them.

"Do _not_ grab the snake, Dummy," Tony called out loudly from where he was standing at a workbench, almost up to the elbows inside the electronic guts of some machine. "He's delicate. Like an egg, or a light bulb, okay?"

Loki was certain that he was actually considerably tougher than either of those things – he was, after all, a god, whatever his current shape – though he appreciated that with his magic leashed he was not as durable as he normally would be, so perhaps it was for the best that Tony's creations had been warned to be gentle in handling him. He watched as Dummy slowly reached toward a twist of his body, and twitched it out of reach just as Dummy's three-pronged claw was about to touch it. The pinchers made a little motion – a droop of the rotating base, and a slight close-and-open flexing of the prongs – that he'd already come to read as disappointment. He slid another curl of his body closer, and this time let Dummy's hand grasp it.

The robot had clearly listened to Tony; it's grip was very gentle, almost featherlight. Too light, in fact; when Dummy started to raise his claw, to try and lift Loki, he slid right out of it. Dummy's head backed away and then forward again – frustrated, or perhaps intrigued – and when the robot gripped Loki again, it was with a somewhat firmer touch. This time the robot succeeded in moving a loop of Loki's body, lifting it a little over a foot into the air, before Loki flattened himself and slid free again. He offered Dummy another loop of his body, and for a while they played together, Dummy lifting different bits of him into the air, the other two robots moving closer but not seeming interested in touching him themselves.

It was close to noon, Loki enjoying riding around the lab draped back and forth over top of Dummy's arm, the two smaller robots running away from them, when Jarvis suddenly spoke.

"_Sir, Director Fury has just arrived at the building and is asking to speak with you. Agent Coulson is on his way downstairs to the lobby to meet him._"

"I take it that's the sort of asking that actually means demanding?"

"_Yes, sir._"

"All right, lab time is over with for now I guess. Let Loki and I get back upstairs before you allow him up," Tony said. "Dummy, stand still, play time's over," he ordered. "Come on, Loki"

Loki slithered down and followed Tony. Traction was good in the lab, with its textured industrial rubber flooring, but the hallway was harder going, and they weren't even halfway to the elevators before Tony made an exasperated sound and bent down.

"I think I better carry you," he said, and gingerly grasped Loki back of the head with his right hand and several feet further back with the left, then carefully stood up. Loki quickly redistributed himself so that most of him was being supported in a loose back-and-forth drape over Tony's left forearm, and rested his head and neck on Tony's right hand and arm. Tony moved a little stiffly at first, holding his arms a little out from his torso; clearly he was not entirely comfortable with Loki's current form. He relaxed a little during the elevator ride up, and by the time they entered the main room of his penthouse was supporting Loki's lengthy body against himself.

"Stay out of sight unless I call you," he told Loki as he crouched down and let him slither down to the floor.

Loki glanced around, then glided across the floor, up the stairs to the bar area, and out of sight behind it.

* * *

"What do you want, Nick?" Tony asked as soon as the man entered the room, Phil trailing along behind, knowing the familiarity would annoy him.

"An explanation," Fury said, ignoring Tony to walk right by him, striding over to the seating area. He had a document folder in hand, and started pulling photos out of it, snapping them down one by one in a row on the coffee table.

"Natasha walking a fancy dog in Central Park, whom she called by the name Loki. You in your lab after the recent attack, with a different dog you also addressed as Loki. Steve jogging with a third dog. Also named, guess what, Loki! You going to try and claim this is some strange coincidence, or explain to me just what the hell is going on? Which I have a rather nasty suspicion boils down to a certain supervillain being back in our midst, and none of you thinking to tell me about it."

"Oh, we thought about telling you, but decided against it," Tony said flippantly, and made his way over to the bar. "Drink, Nick? Agent, a drink for you?"

"This is not happy hour, Stark, this is very unhappy Fury hour."

"Ginger ale, please," Phil said, his expression on the just-barely-amused side of deadpan. Tony shot him a grin and poured him one before grabbing the scotch bottle to pour his own drink.

Fury shot a non-too-pleased look in Coulson's direction. "Don't think I'm happy with you either, Agent Coulson," he said sharply, a sign that he was in a particularly foul mood, since usually he referred to him as Phil. "You knew about this and failed to make any report about it."

Phil gave a slight shrug as Tony walked over and handed him his ginger ale. "_Officially_ the Avengers are not part of SHIELD, but instead independent allies who are recognized by SHIELD and given some administrative and legal support by us. When you assigned me to them you gave me free rein to make my own decisions over what information about them and their inner workings I did or didn't share with SHIELD. In this case I felt that their reasoning for sequestering the knowledge of Loki's presence among us was valid, and that my loyalty to them overrode any need to know of SHIELD's."

"And that reasoning?" Fury all but growled.

Tony smiled at him. "Because Thor asked _us_ to look after Loki, Nick... us, as in his fellow Avengers. I am personally sworn to protect and guard Loki from all harm, and others from any harm he might attempt, until such time as Thor returns to retrieve him. And that means he stays here, in my tower, under my supervision, not getting whisked off to some secret SHIELD facility somewhere to be locked up and probed and prodded."

"He's a criminal responsible for the deaths of hundreds of people. You don't think that might deserve something worse than lounging around in luxury with you?"

"He's a criminal who was returned for trial to his native jurisdiction, and is still undergoing punishment by their laws. His stay here in my custody is only temporary, and unless you want to cause a diplomatic incident with Asgard, not to mention pissing me off, you won't try and touch him."

"And just what's to stop him from using his magic to break free and wreak havoc a second time? He clearly still has magic, judging by the variety of shapes he seems to have been appearing in," Fury said, waving at the photos.

Tony grinned. "Wreak havoc... who actually talks like that? Other than Thor and friends, anyway. Or Shakespearean actors maybe. But the answer is that he doesn't have any control over his magic right now. Or at least very little control. Thor anticipated that we wouldn't be very delighted about the idea of a Trickster god among us, so Loki's magic has been bound; it isn't by any real choice of his that he's been running around with four legs and fur the last few weeks. It's part of what keeps his magic contained; he still has a little, but most of it's been locked up or blocked, and he's been forced to stay in animal forms, which limits what he can do with whatever remains. At least according to Thor."

"Uh-huh. I'd like to meet this wonder-pooch."

"Well, he's actually not too much on the four legs and fur at the moment, but sure. Come out here, Loki," Tony called, and turned expectantly toward the bar.

Loki slid out, taking his time and not hurrying, moving straight out to the side until he was fully in view before finally turning toward them and sliding down the stairs. It was kind of impressive, really, making it clear just how long he was; longer than any of them were tall, and by almost two feet at that. He s-curved his way over and piled up into a coil by Tony's feet, before turning to look up at Fury, at which point he gave one of those loud rattling hisses, head tilting downwards.

"Interesting," Fury said, and just stood staring back at Loki for an uncomfortably long time, neither of them blinking. Which you expected from a snake but made Tony's eyes want to water in sympathy for Fury's one unblinking eye. Finally Fury looked back up at Tony again. "All right. I'll accept that even if we wanted to, he's not in a form that's conducive to us questioning him. I would still prefer if you'd brought this information to me earlier."

"As many people as there are at SHIELD who have a personal reason to want Loki dead or damaged, much less those in the greater populace, we felt it was better to keep quiet about his presence here on earth," Phil said calmly.

"And you count me among that number. The people with a personal reason."

Phil shrugged. "Of course I do. Those were your people that died because of him. If you could have kept Loki and the tesseract here and seen that he was punished our way, short of causing an incident with Thor and potentially all of Asgard, you would have done it in a heartbeat. Most of your anger right now is because you'd prefer to strangle him with your own hands than risk him harming anyone again.

Fury stared at him from a long moment, then gave a small shrug and relaxed. "Probably, yeah. I'm less than happy about his presence here now, even if he has, as you people claim, been bound in some way to be essentially harmless."

"I'm not exactly dancing with joy about it either, Nick," Phil said, making a slight one-handed gesture at his motionless legs. "Believe me that if I thought his presence here was a danger, I'd be taking steps about it."

"All right, Phil. I'll continue to trust your judgement. Just try and give me some warning if things go pear-shaped," he said, then turned and glared at Tony again. "I'd ask for regular reports but I have a feeling you're unlikely to give me any, Stark."

Tony grinned. "You know me so well."

"So how long are you going to be stuck with this house guest?" Fury asked, looking back down at Loki again, who'd stopped hissing and was merely sitting motionless now, head turning occasionally as he watched the three of them.

Tony frowned. "Thor never said; a while, anyway. He's been here over a month now."

"A month? And just why did Thor decide to dump Loki on you, anyway?" Fury asked.

"Asgard was busy going to war, he felt it would be safer for Loki to be held here than there."

Fury's eyebrows rose. "War? Against who? Why?"

"Um," Tony said, and looked guiltily down at Loki. "Remember the aliens that invaded here? Them. Apparently they tried to steal Loki out of prison on Asgard. And failed, obviously."

Fury tensed, and stared at Tony. "Let me get this straight. Loki's allies tried to break him out of jail on

Asgard; the same allies that trashed a sizable chunk of Manhattan a year ago, and yet you _don't_ think that Loki's presence here is a danger to this city and its inhabitants?"

"It sounds so wrong when you put it that way," Tony said. "Except they're not his allies any more, according to what Thor told us. Ex-allies. Of the want-to-kill-him-slowly-and-very-painfully variety."

"And this makes things better how?" Fury asked coldly. "Especially when I don't have all that much reason to disagree with their goal."

"Well, they didn't succeed in grabbing Loki but they _did_ succeed in pissing off Odin and company, who apparently takes things like alien intrusions onto Asgard as a lethally serious matter. Whatever the chitauri are up to at the moment, it's more likely to involve fleeing screaming from Aesir warriors and dying in entertainingly horrible ways than plotting a return to earth, even if they had any reason to think Loki was here instead of still locked up somewhere in Asgard."

"I will note that _more likely_ is not the same as a saying they can't be doing both at once," Fury pointed out. "It still boils down to you sitting here in the middle of a very large and heavily populated area with a war criminal who not only has earned the rightful ire of almost everyone within a large radius of here, but also has a target painted on his back that could well draw an alien invasion here a second time. Perhaps you begin to understand why I suddenly find myself having second thoughts about agreeing to leave him here in your custody?"

"And a slightly increased chance of an alien invasion is different how than almost any other day in this city? The craziness has only gotten worse since the battle, we deal with incidents almost on an 'it's Tuesday, so this must be power-hungry mutants day' basis. Those Doombots last week may have been a bit more spectacularly noticeable than some of the things we've taken out, but you can't tell me that our presence here has done _worse_ for this city than our absence would."

Fury scowled. "You're right, I can't tell you that, though there are those who argue that your very noticeable presence here draws in the criminal element; they see you guys as a challenge."

"I'd have to admit there might be some truth to that, when even Dictator-King-for-Life of pipsqueak European countries I've never even heard of before are making an effort to attack us. What bothers me is not knowing what this Doctor Doom character was after; despite all the damage those robots did, they didn't seem to have any real goal in mind; they certainly didn't touch my lab. Or Bruce's. Just a lot of random damage until we finished them off."

"And you're sure they weren't after your guest?" Fury asked, glancing down at Loki again.

"Nope. Some got close to where he was, but as far as we could tell they only became interested in that area because Jarvis was putting up an extra-strong defence around it; and even that was more due to it being where his remotes were stored than... huh."

"Hit by an idea, Tony?" Phil asked softly.

"Maybe. He attacked us with robots. I have robots too, though mine despite their age have far better AI, and Jarvis' remotes are very advanced as far as non-intelligent robots go. Maybe it's the working tech he was after; either the remotes, or Jarvis, or both. Most people who know about Jarvis' presence here would naturally assume that his data centre is very heavily shielded and would be well-guarded in the event of an attack. Maybe the doombots were simply led astray from what their true target was because Jarvis' strongest defences weren't protecting what Doctor Doom assumed they would be."

"If that's the case than you can expect additional attacks in future," Phil pointed out. "Possibly physical, possibly by electronic means if it's Jarvis he's after."

Ton grimaced. "Yeah. Hopefully less of an in-your-face attack, I don't want to get repairs to the common level finished up just in time to have another invasion of killer robots waltz in and shoot up the place again. I guess I'd better ramp up Jarvis' security routines, in case of attempts to hack in to him, and I'd appreciate it if SHIELD gave me a head's up on any suspicious movement in or out of Latveria – or do you think he might be producing his robots more locally to us?"

"We have our suspicions," Fury admitted. "I'll see what I can send you, but I want a favour in return."

"Regular reports about Loki?"

"Yes, regular reports about Loki."

"Fine. I'll have Jarvis remind me once a week. Or he could just contact you directly."

"I thought I told you to keep your AI out of my computer systems?"

"Contact you by _phone_, Fury. Or email. I might even still have a working fax-modem laying around in storage somewhere I could dust off if you like antique tech. He could even print off something and send it by courier if you want to get really old-fashioned about it."

"Phone is fine, assuming Jarvis uses a scrambled line. In fact, the more I think about it, the more I like the idea of dealing with Jarvis rather than you, Stark. He at least has good manners."

"_Thank you, Director Fury._"

"He even takes a compliment well. And on that note, I think I'm going to leave before I start feeling even less sane than your presence usually makes me feel. Phil, with me please."

"Of course, sir."

The two left. Tony looked down at Loki, who was now piled up around Tony's shoes, his head resting against Tony's left ankle. "Lunch, I think, and then back to the lab. Mind moving out of the way before I trip over you?"

Loki slid aside, then headed over to where the sunshine was casting a pool of light on the floor just inside the windows, and stretched himself out in it to bask.

"Just like a cat," Tony said, amused, and headed off to the kitchen to make himself a sandwich.


	29. Fraying Edges

Tony knotted the drawstring of his sleep pants, then turned and looked at the bed. Loki had already slid up on top of it, and was busy arranging himself in a neat coil on one of the pillows. Tony wrinkled his nose, and considered declaring the bed off-limits to snakes, but really, snakes weren't that bad. Dry and smooth to the touch, the temperature of their body varying from a little too cool to a little too warm, very quiet... still a bit creepy, yeah, but the memory of Dummy charging around the lab wearing the snake like a hat tended to remove a large portion of any unease he might have otherwise had. Dummy usually showed excellent taste in playmates; he'd never liked Obadiah, but had all but climbed into Steve's lap the first time Rogers had visited the lab, and seemed to damn near worship Bruce. So, that Dummy had decided that Loki was now an playmate slash acceptable toy slash article of apparel or whatever; well, it was at least food for thought.

Besides, Loki hadn't hurt any of them in the month plus that he'd now been here, and surely there wasn't really any significant difference between letting dog-Loki sleep on his bed and sharing it with snake-Loki. If it really bothered him he'd have ignored the furry exterior and puppy eyes and made Loki sleep on the floor, or better yet, somewhere downstairs. It would be kind of silly to change his mind now just because he wasn't entirely comfortable with snakes. Though he'd definitely have to draw a line if Loki ever changed into a spider. Or anything that scuttled, really. In fact when compared to anything with too many legs, a snake was damn near _cuddly_.

He still found himself tensing up a little getting into bed, but thankfully Loki seemed content to remain curled up on the pillow he was already occupying. Tony settled down comfortably, thinking about Fury's visit. He was a little relieved that Fury had figured it out and now knew about Loki's presence, truth be told. They had all become a little too comfortable with having Loki around, after all, and it couldn't hurt to have someone aware of his presence who wasn't being exposed to him on a pretty much daily basis. Loki's famed silver tongue might be bound, but there were other ways to lie than with words, as expert manipulators such as Natasha could easily prove. While Tony _wanted_ to believe that Loki's stay among them and the animal forms he'd been taking had been slowly influencing Loki's behaviour, it's not impossible that it was all an elaborate fake, that Loki was coldly, calculatingly manipulating them all instead. It might even be that the real answer was somewhere in between the two, that all of them were having their expectations and emotions altered by their unexpected and lengthy cohabitation.

He rolled on his side, and looked at Loki. Loki's head stirred a little, turning to focus one unblinking eye on him. "Fury's right, you know," he found himself saying. "Your presence here does mean that there's at least a small chance that the chitauri will show up here looking for you. If they know or guess you're here. If they can get here short of someone on this end using the tesseract or something like it to open a portal for them again. If they can even spare the manpower to try and snatch you while Asgard is at war with them. If Asgard hasn't already beaten them into a pulp. If they haven't changed their mind about just how much they want revenge on you. A whole lot of ifs, but... not impossible. Is it." A statement, not a question.

Loki didn't respond verbally, of course, but the way he shifted himself into a tighter spiral seemed to speak volumes. Tony sighed. "Look... I promised Thor to be your... your handler, and to protect you. I keep my promises, and whatever any of us feel about you, the team's got my back on this. But, if the chitauri do show up? It might really help if you've told us anything you can about them first. I know you can't talk, but there are such things as keyboards, and your interface to Jarvis includes one. You've already demonstrated that you can read, how about, oh, I don't know... taking a stab at writing some time. Give it some thought, anyway," he said, then sighed and rolled over onto his other side, facing away from Loki.

There was silence for a few minutes, then the faint rasp of scales sliding over sheets, and the pressure of Loki's long body pressing up against his back and legs, followed by a faint weight across the top of his hip. Tony glanced down and saw that Loki was resting his head and a bit of his neck there. "You know, that's not nearly as cute as when you did that as a dog," he said sleepily, and let his head drop back down to the pillow.

* * *

Tony startled awake, blearily aware of sound and motion going on nearby that shouldn't be. An intruder, was his first thought, and he moved away from the source of the sound before realizing it was Loki; in human form, and, it seemed, in the middle of a nightmare. He froze for a moment, thinking of how poorly he himself sometimes reacted on being woken from his own nightmares, then as Loki gave another pained whimper, reached over and shook his shoulder anyway.

Loki cried out, waking and jerking away, staring wide-eyed at Tony.

Tony stared back, feeling about equally wide-eyed; Loki was awake, and still in his human form.

"What...?" Loki said, voice sounding raspy and disused.

"You were having a nightmare," Tony told him. "You okay?" He managed to keep his voice reasonably calm, but his mind was racing, wondering how much danger he might be in, whether or not he needed to have Jarvis sound an alarm or be signalling for his suit.

"I... yes, I am fine," Loki said. He lifted one of his hands, staring at it and slowly flexing his fingers, before reaching up to pat at his own face. "Oh," he said softly, sounding surprised. And then fainted, or went back to sleep, something that has him dropping limply down on the bed again anyway. He changed again, back into a snake, draped in an inelegant sprawl across the bedding; a different snake, considerably smaller, though that was all Tony could see at present.

"Lights, Jarvis," Tony ordered, and scrubbed a hand down his face. "What time is it? And did you catch the last few minutes?"

"_Yes sir. It is twelve after four in the morning._"

As Tony watched, Loki stirred again. He was only a little over a couple of feet in length now, and pretty spectacularly coloured, in black-edged scales that shaded from a vibrant green on his head and neck to a warm red-gold on his tail, his underside a buttery cream colour. "Wow," Tony said. "Jarvis, do you think he's venomous or non-venomous?"

There was a slight but noticeable pause before Jarvis responded. "_I believe he may be a speckled racer, sir... non-venomous. I would need a closer view of him to be certain._"

Tony nodded. "Well, no point in going back to sleep," he said, and rolled out of bed, heading into the bathroom to shower and shave. He checked the arm injury, which seemed pretty well-healed now but was still a little swollen and sore to the touch. He dressed in blue jeans and a red tank top, and pulled a black button-down shirt on over top, then walked back over to the bed, where Loki was piled up in a heap in the middle of the bed. "I'm heading down to the lab, do you want a lift downstairs or would your prefer to stay up here today?"

Loki lifted his head and looked at Tony for a moment, then uncurled and moved over to the edge of the bed. When Tony reached down to pick him up, Loki wrapped himself around Tony's hand and wrist. Tony lifted him up an took a closer look at him, and found himself smiling. "You look like something from a high-end jeweller's shop," he told Loki.

He headed downstairs to his lab, setting Loki down on his workbench before digging a couple of frozen burritos out of the freezer to heat up for his breakfast. He started the coffee maker running before sitting back to work on building his own version of Dr Foster's sensor machine. His was going to be much better than hers, of course, since his would incorporate Jarvis along with a ton of extra sensors that would allow Jarvis to perform the equivalent of noise-cancelling on the results of the sensor element. Basically in addition to shielding the element from external energy sources as much as was possible, the machine would also track any energy sources that might still be affecting the output, and Jarvis could then subtract the variations caused by them from the waveform, for a much cleaner final signal. At least that was the theory, if Tony could get it all working correctly.

Loki explored the top of the workbench for a while, sliding around and poking his nose into the assorted components and bits of partially-assembled electronics that were scattered across the bench. Dummy came over and watched him for a while, but didn't seem to want to resume the games they'd been playing the day before; perhaps because Loki was so much smaller now.

Tony took a short break for once in mid-morning, sitting tilted back in his chair while nibbling on some puff pastry appetizers he'd heated for a snack, while waiting for a fresh pot of coffee to brew. Loki came over to where Tony had one of his feet braced up on the edge of the workbench, nosed interestedly around his ankle for a moment, and then flowed up onto his leg. Tony froze, stopping in mid-chew to watch as Loki glided along the length of his shin and thigh before coiling up in a loose pile on Tony's thigh and stomach, his head nosing at Tony's clothing.

Tony swallowed the bit of food still in his mouth. "Going exploring?" he asked hesitantly. "I'm not sure I'm comfortable with this."

Loki's head lifted and looked at him, then the snake flowed up the front of his torso, nosing briefly at the crystal bead necklace before slipping under the collar of the shirt and gliding around the back of his neck and out the other side.

"Jarvis, you're sure he's not a constrictor, right?" Tony asked as Loki settled himself in a couple of loose loops draped from shoulder to shoulder around the base of Tony's neck.

"_I suspect he's in search of heat, sir. Your lab is a little on the cool side for his current species to enjoy._"

"Great. So now I'm a space heater," Tony said, and popped another appetizer in his mouth, chewing and swallowing hastily before setting aside the now-empty plate and rising to his feet. Loki's weight shifted a little as he did so, but the feeling of it wasn't unpleasant or anything like that; just a little unsettling, knowing what Loki was. Tony poured himself some coffee, and turned to find Dummy right behind him, the robot's head/hand just inches from him, camera seemingly focused on where Loki's body and head were visible at the front of his shirt. Tony found himself smiling. "Looks like it's my turn to wear him today, Dummy," he told the robot. "Come on, out of the way, time for me to get back to work."

* * *

It was curiosity more than any need of warmth that drew Loki to investigate the bead still strung around Tony's neck. He shouldn't have been able to wake in human form, not without changing form first, but there had been a definite delay between Tony waking him from his nightmare of his time in the Other's hands, and him being forced into this second snake form. Such a change might mean that the artifact and the spell bound within it were beginning to degrade; it was after all only a temporary thing, reasonably durable of its kind, but not meant to hold forever.

Tony's tenseness as he flowed up the man's body to check on it amused him. He nosed at the bead, then slid himself along the length of the cord it was strung on, extending what little magic he had left to him to check the integrity and potency of the spell. It was still quite tightly-woven, but yes... the faintest hints of fraying were visible. Not in the actual physical structure of the cord, but in the pattern of energies it anchored. It would continue to hold for some time yet, but if Thor was long enough delayed before returning to either retrieve Loki or recast the binding with a fresh artifact... he would be free.

He settled himself in loops around Tony's neck, tucked up against the necklace, enjoying the warmth of Tony's skin against his own as he considered this new development, and whether or not there might be anything he could do to hasten the dissolution of the binding. There had been no point in attempting anything while it was fresh and strong, still perfect, but now that it was beginning to fade and fray... yes. It was, he decided, time to start subtly fighting the binding. Wear it out, deplete its energies. Try and force it to break earlier than it might of otherwise.

While he gave consideration to ways in which that might be accomplished, he watched Tony at work, finding his viewpoint from just under the man's chin to be a pleasingly good one, even with his reduced eyesight. It was interesting to watch the speed and skill with which Stark worked, blunt-fingered hands moving steadily as he brought together bits and pieces of machinery, joining them together with some goal in mind.

At one point Tony paused, putting down his tools, and moved over to a collection of interfaces that hung in mid-air to one side. His hands flew through the air, sculpting a shape out of light, and a little while after he resumed his seat Butterfingers brought him that shape made real, a complex bent form of metals and plastics that a number of the smaller assemblies he'd been creating slotted into neatly. He was clearly a craftsman; an artisan, adept with his hands.

"_Sir, Captain Rogers has asked me to let everyone know that he's making soup for lunch today._" Jarvis suddenly announced.

Tony paused in his work and looked up. "What kind of soup?"

"_Beef barley vegetable, I believe. He's baking rolls to go with it._"

"Sweet, count me in. Let me know when it's time to go eat."

"_Of course, sir._"

Tony resumed work, but it wasn't very much later before Jarvis announced that the rolls were out of the oven and the table being set, and Tony headed back upstairs.

"Interesting necklace, Tony," Bruce said as he sat down beside him. "Starting a new fashion?"

Loki lifted his head as Tony laughed. "I'd forgotten he was even there," Tony said, and reached up to touch his fingertips to Loki for a moment. "Surprisingly comfortable, once you get used to him, though I doubt live snakes are a fashion just anyone can pull off."

"He's a pretty specimen," Clint said, leaning over for a better look. "Don't think I know that type."

"Jarvis said he thinks he's a speckled racer."

"I've seen those," Bruce said, taking out his glasses and putting them on then leaning forward to take a closer look at Loki. "They're found from southern Texas down through Central America. Looks like one, though not the same colour morph I've encountered; it's the blue-green ones I've seen before,not a green-brown like that."

"Met a lot of snakes, have you?" Tony asked, sounding amused.

Bruce shrugged, putting his glasses away and returning to spreading butter on a split roll. "Spend as much time hiking around in the wilds as I have, and you learn to brush up on local snakes, spiders, frogs and so. Not a bright idea to take shelter from the rain under a manchineel tree, or get too touchy-feely with a poison dart frog."

"Ow, yeah... manchineel is nasty stuff," Clint agreed. "One of my earliest assignments with SHIELD, I got flown south to replace a sniper who'd made the mistake of trying to climb one to get a bead on his target. Didn't kill him but the blistering scarred pretty badly."

Loki tuned out their conversation after a while, more interested in his own thoughts that theirs. He thought he knew what would be the best way to wear down the binding spell faster; change forms as often as he could. Every time he slept and woke, the binding had to expend at least a little energy to enforce his shape-change from animal to human and back again. What he needed was a form that could sleep several times in a day. And he knew just the one to aim for. Tomorrow, though... for now, it was pleasant to just stay where he was.


	30. Dark Side Pays Better

Tony put down his soldering tools and stretched, yawning. It was still only early evening, but having slept so little the night before he was already at the point where he needed to either go to bed or brew another pot of coffee. He stood staring at the bits and pieces spread out on the bench for a moment, running his thumb thoughtfully along Loki's back, then sighed and turned away, heading for the elevators. "No point pulling an all-nighter, I can't do much more until I get some vibranium synthesized anyway, and that's going to take some time yet. Jarvis, how's the land acquisition going?"

"_Quite well, sir. The paperwork and permissions should be finished by tomorrow morning, and crews can undertake modification of the facility to contain the particle accelerator the next day. I used the parameters of the particle accelerator you'd constructed in Malibu to rough out blueprints for Ms Potts._"

"Modification? We're not building new?" Tony asked as he stepped into the elevator.

"_No, sir. You'd made it clear that the priority on this project was speed, and building from scratch would have required over a month in order to allow for things like the proper curing of concrete. The land being purchased happens to contain an existing building that can be modified to accommodate the accelerator in under a week._"

"See, this is why I like you Jarvis, you remember the details like that. You're an excellent project manager."

"_Thank you, sir._"

Tony was mildly surprised to find his penthouse deserted, having had people up here so frequently since the destruction of the common floor. "Where is everyone?"

"_Captain Rogers and Ms Romanov have gone out, Dr Banner is visiting with Agent Coulson, and Mr Barton was called out on a SHIELD assignment this afternoon and does not expect to return for several days._"

Tony snorted, then reached up to touch his fingertips to Loki again. "Looks like it's just you and me tonight, Kaa. Let's go see what leftovers lurk in the depths of the fridge. Not that you're getting any of them since, you know, _snake._"

He ended up having leftover soup and a couple of sandwiches, while reading some of the scientific articles that Jarvis had collected into his reading queue. He flagged a handful of them as being subjects he'd like to see additional data on, and sent a message to Pepper asking her to look into hiring the writer on one that he found particularly intriguing, then cleaned up from his meal and headed upstairs.

He'd started the bathtub filling and was partway through undressing, down to just his tank top and boxers, before he glanced in the mirror and realized he'd once again forgotten about having Loki draped around his neck. Which was pretty damn weird, realizing that he'd become so used to Loki's presence in his general vicinity that he'd started completely tuning him out, as if he trusted the guy. _Trust_ was not a term he was all that willing to apply to that bag of cats. Trust the spell holding him, maybe, and even that not really since, hey, he didn't believe in magic. Not in magic as magic anyway. Magic as very advanced, currently-beyond-his-ken science, a very qualified maybe.

"You're not taking a bubble bath with me, Sir Hiss," he said as he unwrapped Loki from around his neck and set him down on the counter. "Do snakes even bathe?"

"_All snakes swim, sir, and many captive snakes appear to enjoy soaking in water, especially prior to shedding. Some snake owners allow their snakes regular swimming time in their bathtub._"

"Not sharing my tub with a snake, no matter how pretty you are," Tony said to Loki. "Though if you want to soak I suppose I could fill the sink for you." Loki slid over and nosed at the taps, which Tony chose to interpret as a yes. He filled the sink with a few inches of lukewarm water, then finished stripping off and lowered himself into his own tub, sighing in pleasure as the jacuzzi jets came on. He lay back and soaked for a good long time, then washed and pumiced, and finished off with a long hot shower and shampoo, emerging at last feeling squeaky clean from head to toes, bright pink from the heat as he wrapped himself in a towelling robe.

Loki was still occupying the sink, his head supported above the water on one coil of his body. Tony evicted him so that he could brush his teeth, and was amused when he emerged from the bathroom to find that Loki had already managed to climb up on the bed and coil up on a pillow again. Tony changed into pyjama bottoms and made himself comfortable on the bed, and wasn't surprised when Loki moved from the pillow to curl up by his feet, his head resting on Tony's ankle, a weight so light that Tony could only barely feel it.

The weight got a lot heavier a short time later, when Loki fell asleep before Tony did. He eased his foot out from under the other man's head, and twitched a fold of the top sheet over him to decently figleaf him, then closed his eye and tried to get to sleep as well. Despite his earlier tiredness, sleep now seemed to be eluding him, his thoughts instead bouncing erratically around between an assortment of plans and worries; an idea for an improved coating for the suit's exterior that should help reduce atmospheric drag and resultant friction heating with the bonus of slightly increasing his top speed, tentative plans for several differently shaped sensor elements to manufacture once he had the particle accelerator up and running, some consideration given to wondering what this Doctor von Doom fellow might try next if it really was Jarvis or Tony's robotics he was after, a tentative design for a commercially viable version of his food heater...

A gasp from Loki's direction broke his chain of thought. A glance that way showed a faint frown on the god's face. Loki stirred restlessly, one hand tightening on the sheets, then slowly relaxed again. Another nightmare, perhaps, though this one didn't seem to be as bad as whatever had woken him the previous night.

Tony watched him for a few minutes, but when he didn't stir again started thinking over the list of parts required to make a new arrow for Barton, one that gave out a short-range but very strong EMP on impact and could theoretically be used to at least temporarily disable electronic devices like the Doombots. Given the chance of an eventual second attack, he decided he should put developing and manufacturing the arrows somewhere relatively high on his list of priorities.

Loki tensed suddenly, legs and arms jerking a little as if he'd started to curl up, and a low sound escaped him, somewhere between a moan and a whimper. Definitely a nightmare, Tony decided, and slid one foot over to nudge at his arm. "Loki," he called softly. Loki shuddered and twitched. Tony nudged him again, and Loki's hand lashed out, grabbing a bruisingly hard hold on his ankle. Tony yelped and tried to pull his foot free. Loki's head lifted, eyes slitting partially opened, then he made a sleepy sound of protest, his grip relaxing to much less painful levels as he slid back to sleep again, until his hand was just resting slack, palm-down on Tony's leg. Tony tried to draw his foot away once he was certain Loki was sleeping peacefully again, and the hand immediately tightened, though thankfully not as firmly as before. Tony sighed and left his foot where it was. Apparently for tonight at least he was Loki's security blanket.

Come to think of it, given Loki's tendency to cuddle up to him, maybe he'd been that for a while and just hadn't noticed before. He was still mulling that disturbing thought over and trying to remember just when Loki had turned into a Mr McCuddlepants when sleep finally claimed him.

* * *

Tony woke to a warm weight on his chest and stomach. He cracked an eye open, lifting his head enough to look down, and found himself almost nose to nose with a cat, lying on his top of him with its paws tucked in and tail wrapped around it, eyes shut. Not just any cat, but one of those squashed-face black-tipped white Persians with heavy black eyeliner that looked like it should be in the lap or draped over the arm of some cliche movie villain. Loki's eyes opened, a brilliant green in shade, and he made one of those incredibly wide-mouthed yawns that cats did, displaying a full set of very sharp white teeth while the rough-looking tongue stretched out and curled upwards. Then the mouth snapped shut, and Loki just lay there looking placidly back at Tony, the tip of his tail twitching slightly.

Tony sighed. "And the American judge gives 7.5 points for style. Cute, Loki, very cute. And not at all the way I meant it when you turned into a Pomeranian." Loki merely continued staring. Tony sighed again, then reached to scratch behind his ears; carefully, since he knew some cats didn't react well to such things. Loki's head turned just slightly to watch his hand approaching, but he didn't make any move to avoid Tony's fingers. A short while later, Loki's chin was resting on Tony's chest, his eyes half-slitted and what was a very definite purr rumbling through him. That, Tony decided, really was sort of cute, though he carefully avoided saying anything about it.

By the time he finally made it downstairs, everyone else was already halfway through breakfast; corned beef hash, by which he assumed that Steve had cooked. Steve was the first one to spot him and Loki, and the soldier's entire face lit up. "Thinking of taking over SPECTRE, Tony?" he asked.

Tony grinned back, delighted by Steve actually initiating a pop culture reference, and wondered who'd introduced him to Bond films, since it certainly hadn't been him. "Why yes, I've heard they're in need of a new Number 1," he responded. "Plus, dark side pays better."

"They have milk, _and_ cookies," Clint chimed in, grinning.

Tony took a few minutes to dump some canned tuna into a bowl for Loki, then joined everyone else at the table.

"You shouldn't feed cats canned fish," Natasha said. "Not as anything more than an occasional treat, anyway."

"I know, too much ash and stuff in it, it gives them kidney stones," Tony said. "I'll have to figure out what to feed him later, somehow I don't think Fancy Feast will cut it. And he'd probably kill me in my sleep if I tried Meow Mix on him."

"You let him near you when you're sleeping?" Clint asked, sounding surprised and giving Loki an untrusting look.

"Sure. Either the binding spell is working properly and there's not a damned thing he can do to hurt me anyway, or I'd be dead already, yes-no?"

Natasha glanced up from spreading mustard on a piece of dark rye bread – she only liked corned beef hash when eaten as an open-faced sandwich – and glanced from Tony to Loki and back again, then looked at Clint. "He has a point," she conceded, and resumed her sandwich construction.

"I dunno, on a horror movie scale of vaguely ominous soundtrack to fully rendered alien zombie apocalypse with extra gore, I'd say that allowing Loki to remain in the room you sleep in ranks as, oh, _at least_ a why the fuck are you going into the darkened basement alone," Clint pointed out, frowning.

"I think I more-or-less understood most of those references and I'm still not sure what Clint just said," Steve said, looking confused.

"He's saying I'm being a dumbass and putting myself in danger," Tony translated. "Only with more words." He pointed a finger at Natasha. "_Don't_ tell me he has a point. It's pretty much invalidated by my point anyway. I'm not dead, ergo the spell is working, therefore it makes no real difference if I let Loki sleep in my room rather than banning him to a containment cell somewhere for the night. And I can't _believe_ I'm actually arguing in favour of magical anything."

Natasha just smirked and took a bite of her sandwich. Loki, finished his tuna, came and jumped up into Tony's lap, nosing at his plate to see what was on it.

"Hey! My food," Tony said, wrapping one arm around him to hold him back. "Anyway I doubt corned beef is good for you. Too much salt."

Loki twisted his head around to look up at Tony's face, then seeming gave up, lying down across his lap.

"Is... is he purring?" Clint asked a moment later, pausing with a forkful of hash halfway to his mouth. The purring cut off, and Loki lifted his head to peer over the table at Clint, eyes narrowing. Clint grinned. "Nothing _wrong_ with purring, just..."

Whatever he was about to finish that sentence with was cut off as an alarm sounded, with the get-suited-up-and-gather-at-the-quinjet tone. They all shot to their feet, Tony depositing Loki on the table. "Stay here," he ordered, before heading at a run toward the newly repaired peeler platform. "Heavy suit, Jarvis," he called at he went.

"_Still under repair, sir... you haven't finished reassembly of the right arm casing._"

"Shit... medium suit then."

Loki sat down by Tony's plate, and placidly started eating Tony's breakfast.

* * *

The food was tasty, but it was indeed rather saltier than this form found entirely enjoyable. Loki finished off the plate of it anyway, sheerly out of a stubborn determination to do so, but found himself regretting it afterwards when it left him feeling vaguely nauseous and very thirsty. It wasn't until he went to jump down and head to his water dish that he discovered that the binding spell was taking a very literal view of that parting 'stay here' of Tony's; he couldn't leave the top of the table. Even just crossing to the other side of it started the uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach that meant he was pushing his boundaries.

Loki circled the table, sniffing at the various liquids abandoned in cups and glasses, lip curling back in disgust at how unpalatable things such as coffee and orange juice smelled to him. Natasha, he was relieved to discover, had left a half-finished glass of water at her place. He tried to stick his head in to drink from it, but the glass was too small, the water tantalizingly just out of reach of his tongue. He tried reaching in and dabbling in the water with his paw, then licking the water off of his fur, but found that a very slow and unsatisfactory way to drink. Finally he made a spitting sound of frustration and knocked the glass over on its side. Some of the water dripped off the table, out of his reach, but he lapped up what he could of the puddle it left behind.

Unfortunately the water made a reappearance a short time later, along with a disgusting amount of the contents of his stomach. He moved away from the noisome puddle as soon as he could, and then yowled in discomfort as his stomach let him know that it was still far from happy.

"_Do you require assistance, Loki?_" Jarvis asked. Loki yowled a second time, crouching down in a ball of pained misery. There was a brief pause before Jarvis spoke again. "_Sir is currently unavailable. I will summon someone else who can help._"

Loki had thrown up a second time and was feeling only slightly better as a result when he heard the elevator open, followed by the faint purr of Coulson's motorized wheelchair. Loki turned his head away, closing his eyes and hunching up tighter, then yowled again as the motion made his stomach roil.

"I've got him, Tony. Worry about the mission, not the cat," Coulson said as he rolled to a stop by the table. "Throwing up hairballs, Loki?"

"_I believe he may be suffering from a mild case of salt poisoning, Agent Coulson._"

"Treatment?"

"_Administering fluids, usually via an IV, though I would be hesitant to use one on Loki as that in combination with a shape change could be dangerous. His electrolytes should be monitored in case the poisoning is worse than suspected, which I can do if you bring him to either the medical floor or Dr Banner's lab._"

"I think Bruce's lab would be best, in terms of secrecy," Coulson said.

Loki stiffened, eyes flying open as hands touched him, scooping him up and moving him off the table. He made a distressed mrowling sound and began to struggle, feeling the binding spell commanding him back to where he'd been ordered to stay. The moment he could get the leverage to do so, he kicked off from Coulson's lap and vaulted back onto the table, sending leftover food and cutlery scattering across it, and adding cooling coffee to the mess. He crouched down again, trembling with stress and pain, and yowled plaintively. Coulson frowned and rolled around the table, and Loki quickly backed away from him, growling unhappily when when he promptly stepped into something nasty.

Coulson's frown deepened. "Loki... I'm trying to _help_," he pointed out, and slowly rolled closer again. Loki hunkered down, too upset to even care that there was now something horrible soaking into his belly fur, and gave a particularly long and piercing yowl.

"Tony, he's not letting me pick him up," Coulson said.

"_I believe I have identified the problem, Agent Coulson,_" Jarvis spoke up. "_Sir seems to have ordered him to stay on the table._"

"You heard that, Tony?" Coulson asked, looking somewhat put-upon.

There was a faint crackling sound, and then Loki could hear Tony's voice, the sounds of battle in the background. "Yeah. Loki, go with Coulson and stay where he puts you." The sound cut out again.

Coulson eyed Loki, then sighed. "Jarvis, make note that Tony owes me a really big favour for this," he said, then reached for Loki again.

"_Noted, Agent Coulson_," Jarvis answered, sounding amused.

This time the only distress Loki felt was the continued upset of his digestive system, and he was soon settled in Coulson's lap, the man's left hand cupped over him to hold him steady as Coulson steered out of the kitchen and over to the elevators.


	31. Distractions

"Try to claw or bite me and I will end you," Coulson said in a conversational tone of voice as he lifted Loki out of his lap and deposited him into a sink in the lab.

Loki hunkered down, ears back, as Coulson leaned over and started the water running, then pulled a spray attachment out of its holder and started wetting down Loki's fur. Loki yowled in protest, but forced himself to remain still, not just because he more than half-believed Coulson's quiet words, but also because this body's instinctive method of cleaning the mess out of his fur was... unthinkably vile, compared to submitting to a bath.

The procedure was about equally uncomfortable for both of them, Coulson having to lean sideways at an awkward angle to reach the sink from his chair, Loki having to suppress his body's natural desire to fight and flee. He forced himself to think about how much he'd always enjoyed bathing when in his natural form, which helped a little, though Coulson was far from the sort of handmaiden he'd usually have wanted attending on him.

Coulson was seemingly doing two jobs at once, as while he bathed Loki he was also watching a floating array of displays that Jarvis was projecting nearby for him, and making comments at intervals that Loki guessed was his side of a conversation with the Avengers while they fought. Eventually Coulson was satisfied with the cleanliness of his fur. "Stay there for now," he ordered, and rolled away again, the screens floating smoothly along with him.

Loki crouched down in the sink, trembling again from stress and exhaustion. His stomach at least seemed to be settling, though he still felt thirsty, and increasingly cold with his fur moisture-slicked to his body the way it was. He licked half-heartedly at his shoulder, then gave up and just forced himself to remain still, waiting while the worst of the moisture dripped from his sodden fur.

When Coulson returned he had a pile of towels in his lap, and was wearing a clean pair of sweatpants to replace the ones Loki had soiled. He towelled Loki dry with the same rough efficiency with which he'd bathed him, then set him down on a folded towel on top of one of the metal-topped tables in the room, before filling a shallow dish with water and putting it down in reach of Loki.

Loki pulled himself up enough to drink deeply, then lay back down on the towel. He felt less terrible now, though the way his fur was still all damp and tangled felt nasty. He tiredly started grooming himself smooth, watching Coulson as the man sat working nearby, eyes flicking from display to display, talking quietly as he pointed out things about the attack to the Avengers, or warned them of attackers approaching them from angles they couldn't themselves easily see.

He was only partway through grooming himself when his exhaustion overwhelmed him. He curled up as best he could around his still-sore tummy, and dropped off to sleep.

* * *

"You are going to owe me so many favours after this," Coulson's voice said in Tony's ear, sounding both darkly amused and more than a little strained.

"I know, I'm sorry. How's he doing?"

"He's sleeping now."

"Ouch, so yeah, eyeful of alien junk time again I'm assuming. Sorry, Agent,"

"I've had to deal with worse things over my career. Jarvis says he should recover quickly now that he's in his normal form; at that body mass the amount of salt he ingested is well below toxic levels. Group of three on your seven o'clock."

Tony spun and fired. "Good to hear. Also, who the hell thinks weaponizing pigeons and sea gulls is a good idea? God damn fucking sky rats with _lasers_..."

"I'm more worried about how whomever did it got them to work in concert," Bruce's voice came over the line. They'd decided early on that the threat from the modified scavengers wasn't enough to justify bringing out the Hulk, not when whatever damage he'd do would likely be worse than the effects of the flying vermin. He was currently sitting out the lengthy fight in a SHIELD-supplied mobile lab, examining the bodies of some of the cyborged creatures to see if he could figure out anything immediately useful about them.

"Yeah that is concerning," Tony agreed.

"Flock of them gathering a block to your east, Iron Man. Cap, that's two blocks north of you. Hawkeye, there's two gulls approaching from your six."

It was hours later before the last of the birds had been dealt with, and Hulk had taken an outing after all, once Bruce found the oddly organic electronics embedded in the brains of the samples he was examining. Jarvis traced down the source of the signal the chips (for lack of a better word) were receiving to a bunker-like old utility building on the grounds of a long-abandoned factory on the edge of the area they've been fighting in. The heavily reinforced door didn't last long against Hulk's strength, though both Tony and Bruce were at least a little regretful that the madman behind it all chose to blow up his facility rather than allow himself and his technology to be captured. Though if he was like most madmen they've encountered to date, there was a better than even chance that he had a bolthole, and they'd be seeing him and his tech again some time.

As soon as his suit was peeled, Tony headed straight down to Bruce's lab. Coulson was still there, he knew, coordinating the after-battle cleanup and filling in the multitude of forms and reports that were needed. The man was a machine when it came to his job, and Tony was eternally grateful that he'd survived Loki's attack on the helicarrier; the time between the Battle of New York and when Coulson had again become their handler had not been a pleasant time for either the Avengers or the members of SHIELD they'd had to interface with. Since Coulson had rejoined them, things had gone a lot smoother.

Tony came to an abrupt stop just inside the door of the lab. Loki was obviously back in cat form, lying curled up in Coulson's lap, the man typing one-handed while his other hand scratched Loki's ears. Loki was a small grey tabby short-hair of some kind. Coulson glanced up at his entry, and smiled thinly. "I'll let you know what you owe me for cat-sitting later."

Tony grinned. "Sure. And thanks. Wouldn't want to think of how Thor would have reacted if I'd accidentally let his kid brother die." Loki's eyes slitted open and he gave Tony an annoyed look, then rose to his feet, arching his back and yawning widely before jumping down out of Coulson's lap and padding over to strop himself against Tony's legs. Tony smiled, and bent down to run one hand down his back before lifting him up, cradling him in his arms. "Well, I've got work to do... see you later, Agent."

"Later, Stark," Coulson said, only briefly glancing away from his work.

He carried Loki down one floor to his own lab, in through the recently finished Acme Labs entranceway, which rarely failed to make him smile. He sang some of the Pinky and the Brain theme song under his breath as he set Loki down and filled a bowl with water for him. "Jarvis, from now on please keep an eye on what I say to Loki and let me know if I inadvertently say something that might be interpreted as a location command, all right? Rather not have any more inadvertent screw-ups like this morning."

"_Certainly sir._"

Tony wandered around for a moment, wondering what to work on, then remembered that his heavy suit was still out of commission and headed over to the workbench where the partially disassembled armour piece was still waiting for Tony to finish replacing and rewiring the parts that had been damaged or destroyed when he'd been shot. Which reminded him twice over that his arm was still sore, seeing as how any time he moved it beyond a certain range of movements it would start to hurt, and rewiring inside the heavy armour pieces required at least a certain amount of uncomfortable contortions to link up mechanical and electrical bits and pieces. He had to take a break partway through the work, knocking back some acetaminophen tablets with the aid of a cup of coffee.

Loki was exploring the lab, he saw, being watched from a distance by the three bots. Tony found himself smiling, amused by the way they reacted to Loki's presence. This time it was You and Butterfingers who got close to him first, Dummy who kept his distance, at least until Loki started stropping himself against the two smaller robots and purring. Only then did Dummy move in, and it wasn't long before he had his pincers held in a position where Loki could rub his head against them.

Tony went back to work, and despite the increasingly sore arm lost himself in his repairs for a while, methodically working his way down the rows of connectors inside the arm until the armpiece was whole again, after which he carefully checked every piece of the set by hand to be sure there wasn't anything else in need of a repair. He was feeling pleasantly accomplished by the time he finally sat back, the heavy suit completely restored and reassembled, Jarvis running it through its test routines preparatory to storing it for use.

Tony got up to get himself some more coffee and a handful of cookies to eat, and noticed that Loki was napping again, stretched out on the couch in human form. He quickly turned his back, telling himself it was because it was the polite thing to do. Not that the sight of the naked god was unpleasant or upsetting or anything, just... distracting. Yeah, that was a nice neutral word for it. Distracting. He made a mental note to find where the blanket he usually kept in the lab had wandered off to.

He plunged back into his work, quickly drawing up the plans and parts list to make some varied prototypes of the EMP arrows he'd been planning in his head the night before, then segued from that into the plans and parts list for his cheaper version of the food heater, since he had his design software open already and might as well get that out of his head at the same time. It needed a better name than food heater, he decided, and knowing how Pepper tended to roll her eyes at his own attempts at naming things, made a mental note to ask the others for suggestions.

He'd started work on another set of plans, sketching in a tentative idea for a prosthetic device based on his suit that might help Coulson to walk again, when he suddenly had a lap full of cat, Loki having leapt up unexpectedly. He was a long lean cat with sleek fur of a sandy colour, shading to white on his nose and throat, with subtle darker markings on his head, back and tail, and large golden yellow eyes. Loki rubbed himself against Tony's front briefly, then rose up on his hind legs with his forepaws braced on Tony's chest just above the arc reactor, and gave a very loud and demanding meow.

"What do you want? More water?" Tony asked, and glanced that way to see the bowl was still half-full. Loki meowed again, then jumped down and sauntered over to sit down by the freezer, looking pointedly up at the food heater and then back over his shoulder at Tony.

"Oh... hungry?"

Another of those imperious meows. Tony realized he was feeling kind of peckish himself, and a glance at the time display showed just how long ago that handful of cookies had been; it was past midnight, and he'd skipped supper.

He dug around in the freezer, hauling out a ziploc tub of homemade lasagna for himself – leftovers from a dinner cooked by Steve – and threw that in the heater for himself, then poked around in the cabinets to find something a cat could eat, eventually emerging triumphantly with some retort pouches of salmon and tuna that hadn't passed their best before date yet. He tore open a pouch of salmon, dumping it out on a plate, then grabbed his container of now-warm lasagna and a fork and carried them both over to the couch, taking a seat at one end and setting the plate down on the middle cushion. Loki leaped up and crouched down by the plate, making a grumbling sound of approval as he started to eat.

Tony damn near inhaled the lasagna, watching while Loki ate the salmon with only slightly less enthusiasm. He paused in his own eating for a moment. "Jarvis, run a search to see what the nutrient intake of cats is supposed to be, and then find or create a recipe for homemade cat food that meets the requirements, and doesn't look or smell like a dog's breakfast, 'kay?"

"_Of course, sir. There are a number of homemade cat food recipes available online; I'll assume I can safely ignore the vegan options, and will analyze the remainder as to nutritional content._"

"Sweet, thanks," Tony said, and finished his meal, then picked up Loki's empty plate and put it and his own dishes in the dishwasher. "Dummy, dishwashing duty," he called out, and smiled as Dummy raised and lowered his head in excitement, then started patrolling the lab in search of any forgotten mugs or lost plates that needed to be gathered up and added to the load.

Tony scooped up Loki and headed for the elevators, feeling tired as the long day, and the long fight that had occupied most of it, finally caught up with him.


End file.
